


Innocent Guise

by Brenna1918



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Captive Sam, Gen, Kidnapped Sam Winchester, Leviathan!Dean - Freeform, Leviathan!Sam - Freeform, Leviathans Tend To Be Violent, M/M, Minor Injuries, Sexual Undertones, Threats of Violence, Undercover Sam Winchester, Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 50,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenna1918/pseuds/Brenna1918
Summary: Two Leviathan are running around looking like Sam and Dean, committing crimes in order to flush the two out. Sam is alone when . . . Enter Crowley, stage left, with a grudge and a plan.





	1. Symbiotic

**Author's Note:**

> [Warnings: Many Deus Ex Machinas, leaps in logic, and much universe fucking!]

It was another stressful day for Samuel Winchester. Living life as a hunter and a Winchester was always hard, but things haven’t been this bad since the apocalypse. A couple of days ago, he and his brother, Dean, had been busy trying to find a way to defeat the Leviathan when a metaphorical bomb had been dropped on them. 

 

It was all over the news. Two Leviathan, pretending to be them, were prowling around robbing and murdering the shit out of people. They were wanted criminals! Again! Taking down the Leviathan was already looking to be impossible and now, in just a few moments, they managed to skyrocket the Winchesters right back onto the FBI’s most wanted list.

 

No doubt the second they were caught, the Leviathan pretending to be them would show up in the flesh. It had to be some kind of plan to flush him and his brother out. He and Dean’s only real hope at the moment was Bobby figuring out a way to either kill Leviathan or slow them down before they were dragged in by the police. All in all, their only hope wasn’t all that hopeful. 

 

The world was closing in around them and they were essentially forced into hiding. They couldn’t freely walk the streets without risking SWAT coming down on them. Which is why Sam had taken to going out in a hoodie with the hood pulled all the way over his face for food like he was at the moment. Dean taken taken to going out in a hat and Castiel’s trenchcoat (Sam thought it reminded him of Cas), but the hoodie was just fine where Sam was concerned.

 

It was late October and quite chilly where they were now. It was even starting to snow, but they didn’t have any winter clothing and, with the media storm swirling around them now, it was unlikely they would get the chance. So, Sam figured he would just have to power his way through and hope his hoodie would continue to take the edge off the chill.

 

It was when Sam was walking on a seemingly empty street that a pair of arms wrapped around his arms from behind and he was dragged into a dark side alley. Naturally, he struggled, but it didn’t get him far and his attacker only adjusted and strengthened their grip. The iron grip was, without a doubt, supernatural. He resigned himself to his fate and only hoped that Dean could evade capture even if he was taken by the Leviathan. 

 

“Hello, Moose. Long time, no see.” A familiar, gravelly voice spoke from behind him as the strong hands removed themselves from his person. 

 

Sam knew that voice!

 

Whirling around, Sam came face-to-face with his and his brother’s on-again off-again ally, Crowley. The demon in question was wearing his usual suit, looking far too refined for someone standing in a dark alley, dragging in innocent passerby. This was not who he was expecting at all. Sam seemed to be in shock as he silently opened and closed his mouth, momentarily unable to produce sound.

 

Crowley picked up on it quickly, giving a knowing (if condescending) smirk. “What’s wrong, Winchester? Leviathan got your tongue?” 

 

That got a reaction.

 

“Leviathan?” Sam choked out, a tad louder than he maybe meant to. Knowing he probably wasn’t going to be able to get his thoughts across verbally, he settles for physically. He fixed the annoying demon with the best questioning look he could muster at the moment. 

 

“I know about their little plan to flush you and your brother out. I’m here to help.” Crowley stated, straightforwardly. 

 

“What?” Sam choked, skeptically. “Why would you want to help us?” He demanded. Crowley gave a resigned sigh and began pacing. When he ended up pacing behind Sam, the younger man turned around to face him again so that his back wasn’t to the demon for too long. 

 

“I’ll admit, I did try extend the metaphorical olive branch to the Leviathan first.” Crowley admitted, his words immediately putting the hunter on edge. 

 

“And how did that turn out for you?” Sam sneered, his tone scathing and defiant. 

 

Crowley ignored the goading with practiced ease. “Oh, Roman blew me off. Said, in no uncertain terms, that he wouldn’t even  _ consider  _ working with a demon. Of course, there were a good amount of insults and threats tossed in there, as well.” This was all said in a casual, conversational tone.

 

The demon tossed his head to the side and fixed his unwavering gaze onto his sometimes-ally. “Needless to say, I was reasonably upset by all that. I want revenge  . . . and to protect my crown.” He added the last bit after a moment of thought. 

 

“And why, exactly, did you come to me with this?” Sam asked, disbelieving. He couldn’t believe this was happening. What did he do to deserve this being his life?

 

“Because you  _ do  _ need help and, with the kind of revenge I want, I need help, too.” Crowley sounded deeply displeased with having to admit that he needed help from a Winchester. 

 

Sam, on the other hand . . . 

 

“What makes you think I need help from  _ you _ ?” Sam demanded. The thought of working with a demon (Crowley, in particular) made him feel like bile was rising in his throat. 

 

“You need help from someone.” Crowley replied, readily. “Why not me?”

 

“I can think of several reasons.” Sam shot back. 

 

“And I can think of several reasons why you should take me up on my offer. I’ve helped you boys before.” Crowley stated. “I can provide you with the opportunity to protect your brother. He is always protecting you, don’t you want to return the favor?” 

 

Sam didn’t reply, but the look in his eyes said enough. Sensing he was making headway, Crowley continued on. “If you go along on my plan, not only can you get the chance to destroy the Leviathan’s plans from the inside, but you can also keep tabs on what they are doing and relay their plans. I can promise that you’re not likely to be hurt and, if you play the part well, you might even be able to distract attention away from your family’s activities.” 

 

These possibilities sounded frightening and also slightly alluring to Sam. He had been frustrated feeling so helpless in fighting the Leviathan and this could be his chance to actually do something, handed to him on a silver platter!

 

“What is your plan?” Sam asked, against his better judgment.

 

A toothy smirk spread across the demon’s face, making Sam quickly rethink his interest. “Well,” Crowley started before Sam could take it back. “I imagine you know how to play the cute younger brother from your childhood, yeah?” The demon inquired.

 

Sam nodded warily, wondering where this was going. 

 

“Well, when I talked with Roman, he said that he viewed humans above demons because of their useful status as a food source. He wasn’t willing to work with demons, but he may consider doing so with humans. He views them as something to be used anyway, so if he finds one he thinks of as particularly useful, then he would no doubt  _ leap  _ at the chance.” Crowley explained, leading into his way of thinking.

 

Sam lifted a sarcastic eyebrow in response. Sighing to himself at the Winchester’s lack of appreciation for dramatics, Crowley started to get right to the point. “My evil scheme is to give you abilities that no human, angel or demon, possesses in full and have you placed in the Leviathan’s custody.” 

 

Panic promptly raised and swelled inside Sam.  _ That was insane! This plan was insane!  _ Before Sam could open his mouth to put his thoughts into words, Crowley held up both his hands in a placating gesture, effectively silencing the hunter for the time being.

 

“Just hear me out.” Crowley stated before he continued. “If I make you useful enough, they wouldn’t dare risk hurting you and you could potentially derail their current plans for you and your brother with your mere presence. You’ll even be at ground zero to overhear their evil plans and pass them on. They will tell you anything if they think you can’t escape! It’s perfect! You can’t go to them as yourself, of course. You’ll need a disguise.” The demon was getting excited now.

 

Sam was not going to get swept away in it, though. “And how, exactly, does it help anyone if I can’t get the information out? And how can you give me these mysterious abilities if even demons don’t have them?” Sam demanded, disbelieving of the entire plan.

 

“Demons don’t have  _ all  _ of the abilities I will give you.” Crowley diligently corrected, making the distinction. “We, demons, have a few of them, but I will get into that later on. As for passing on information, I have taken the liberty of purchasing a necklace with a built-in microphone for the occasion. 

 

Saying so, Crowley reached into his suit pocket and drew out a simple necklace. It was very plain and, while attractive enough for someone to reasonably wear, it was easy to overlook and in no way stood out. The design was a crescent moon designed to look like it was formed from some kind of rusted, brown metal on a slim leather band with a similar brown color. For a covert listening device, it was perfect.

 

“This was made so there is no outward sign of what’s inside and it’s welded shut, so there is no opening it up and messing with the wires. Therefore, there is no way to turn it off and on; it is always on. It draws its constant energy, among other things, from a little spell I used on it after I bought it. I have the receiver that came with it, so everything said around you will come back to me, which I will then pleasantly pass on to Squirrel.” 

 

It took a Sam a second of wondered where squirrels came into this to remember that it was Crowley’s nickname for his brother. Well, one questioned answered; time for another. “How do I know you will actually tell Dean what you hear?” Sam demanded, his distrust perfectly clear. 

 

“Promise.” Crowley said lightly, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. The smirk he gave basically said that that was the best Sam was gonna get and he couldn’t even really complain about it because Crowley was offering a partial solution to his otherwise hopeless problem. He had a lot to lose, turning his back on this now.

 

“How do I know you won’t leave me to rot with the Leviathan once you get what you want?” Sam already knew he was going to agree, but Winchesters didn’t just fold. 

 

“You boys are useful.” Crowley replied. “I wouldn’t want to get rid of someone useful. Besides, your brother wouldn’t rest until he had my head if he found out. We’re temporary partners in this, right? You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. So do we have a deal?” Crowley inquired, holding out his hand. 

 

“Deal.” Sam answered decisively, yet his hand reached out hesitantly to grab the other man’s. It wasn’t a binding contract, but it would have to do. “Alright. How do we get me into their ranks?” Sam questioned, his tone demanding. 

 

Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically.  _ Winchesters!  _ “We can’t afford for them to be even the teensiest bit suspicious of your intentions. If they think there is even a chance that you’re a threat to their plans, they will obliterate you. The key here is to make everything about you seem as non-threatening as possible.”

 

That made sense. Sam nodded to show that he was following so far. “We need to think about how you are to make contact with them.

 

If you approach them saying that you know what they are and want to help, it would make you seem too conniving. It would raise too many questions, both about secret motives you may have and where you, a human, got so much knowledge of what they and their goals are.”

 

“Why can’t you give me to them?” Sam was too busy thinking and problem solving to feel the instinctive disgust at the idea of Crowley “giving” him to anyone. “You could paint it as trying again to win their favor through bribery.” 

 

“I already thought about that.” Crowley replied, wearily. “They  _ could _ take it at face value, but they are much more likely to question your past and my motives if we do that! They might think I’m planning something, which I am, but we don’t want them to know that.”

 

“Then, what?” Sam thought, aloud. 

 

“Alright, stay with me now. This might take some explaining. Firstly, your personality is important. You need to act the innocent, helpless little brother; emphasis on _ innocent _ and  _ helpless _ . Be over the top with it, if you have to.” Crowley impressed upon him. “You will not be The Hunter, you will be a young human at the Leviathan’s mercy and you need to play the part.”

 

During this, Sam’s eyebrows slowly rose higher and higher until they disappeared under his hairline. As soon as Crowley paused, he voiced his confusion. “You keep saying I need to be non-threatening, but I’m not really that young and I don’t think I could pull off innocent if I tried, not with my height. How are you going to make me non-threatening?”

 

What he got in response was a surprisingly confident smirk and an uneasy (for Sam) amount of amusement showing in the demon’s eyes. Sam fought the instinctive urge to take a cautious step back.

 

“The same way I can give you powers no demon possesses. Catch!” Shockingly (and strangely) enough, Crowley tossed a large balled up wad of paper at Sam’s face, which he caught instinctively. 

 

What resulted was no less than the strangest sensation he had ever experienced, which was saying a lot for a Winchester. The paper unraveled itself in under a second and plastered itself onto his hand, almost fusing into the skin. Brown eyes widened in shock while his heart quickly sped up, fright overtaking him. He shook his hand frantically in an attempt to remove it using momentum. 

 

When the paper didn’t disengage straightaway, he tried to scrape it off using the walls of the alleyway. It did nothing to help as the paper further fused to his skin, melding with the flesh. After another ten seconds of this, the paper was gone. Not fallen off, but completely part of Sam. Whether it had sunk straight into his soul or became part of his skin, Sam didn’t know. 

 

“What the hell was that for?!” Sam demanded of Crowley once he had gotten his senses back. 

 

“That,” Crowley stated, with irritating calmness. “was a gift. You’re welcome.” Seeing Sam getting revved up and angry, Crowley cut the hunter off from his impending tirade. “Close your eyes for a couple seconds, then open them. How do I look?” Crowley instructed.

 

Sam raised an eyebrow, both in mockery and in challenge, but decided to bite the bullet and close his eyes when Crowley just kept waiting for him. 

 

Sam’s eyelids slowly, cautiously slid shut, hiding the demon from his view. Every instinct he had was shouting at him to reopen his eyes and not take them off of such a threat. Still, he ignored it the best he could and counted off a few good seconds before snapping his eyes back open. 

 

What he saw made Sam gasp loudly and actually jump back a few feet. 

 

Crowley stood in the exact same place he was in before Sam closed his eyes, apparently not having moved a muscle. He had a smugly pleased look on his face as he simply stood there in all of his demon-ness, which Sam could see. Crowley’s demon-ness, or perhaps it was his demonic energy, was suddenly visible. It formed a black, amorphous cloud wafting off his body like fog from ice and collecting far above his head. 

 

It wasn’t just his sight that had changed, Sam noticed. His body was having a strange reaction to Crowley’s presence; his senses were practically screaming to the hunter that the person in front of him was, in fact, a demon. Instinctively telling him the being before him was dangerous. Sam’s entire range of perception had changed. Instincts he didn’t even know if he originally possessed had been magnified. 

 

Then, the most jarring thing so far happened. 

 

It lasted less than a second, Sam was sure, but it felt like much longer. The demon in front of him, for a moment, had two faces. One was the human face that had become synonymous with the demon in question. The other was incredibly hard to look at and even harder to explain. It was the horrendous, decayed-looking face one would expect when looking upon a demon.

 

And then it was gone, leaving only the human face grinning back at him in demonic pleasure. 

 

“I know what you saw.” Crowley said to a shocked Sam. 

 

“What did I just see?” Sam breathed out, his eyes fixated on some point beyond the demon. 

 

“Me.” Crowley answered, pleased. “As I really am. You’ll see the true form of any other supernatural creature you see, now. You should be able to sense their presence, as well.” His pleased grin then turned into something more smug. “Of course, that’s not all you can do, but I’ll let you figure that out as you go. It’s better for the innocent character you’ll play for you to be surprised, anyway.” 

 

_ This is all going to take some getting used to.  _ Sam thought, miserably. 

 

Crowley’s grin widened at the look on Sam’s face as if he could read his thoughts. “Now, here’s the beginning of the plan . . .”


	2. Innocent Eyes

“Remember,” Crowley had said. “Be as innocent and non-threatening as possible. I cannot be allowed to grow suspicious of your intentions. Don’t mess this up.” Crowley gave him a warning look. 

 

“I’m used to being non-threatening,” Sam sighed, as he acquiesced to the demon’s plan. “But I don’t think my size helps my case, here.” 

 

The resulting sharp smile he got back was unnerving, to say the least. “Moose, you really think seeing my true form is the only power you have? It’s only the tip of the iceberg, you haven’t seen anything yet. For now, though, imagine how you want to look. What appearance would best assist you in your mission? Try for something physically capable, but still seemingly innocent and helpless.”

 

At this point, Sam was beyond questioning it and just silently closed his eyes. He tried to bring an image to his mind, something that would help him with what he needed to do, but he wasn’t really the creative type when it came to envisioning the human body. 

 

That was more Dean’s specialty. 

 

Was there another figure he’d seen that could use . . . one not from MTV? 

 

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks! Back when he and Dean had been working a case of fairy tales coming to life, they’d narrowed it down to the spirit of a comatose little girl whose own life mirrored the happenings of a particular fairytale, Snow White. 

 

Sam had done some online research while narrowing it down to Snow White and had happened upon some fan-made drawings of the character. In particular, one fan had wanted to share what they thought “the fairest of them all” would look like as a guy. 

 

Sam did stop to look closely at the picture and, he did have to admit, it was a good picture by a clearly talented artist. It also did look impressively like a male Snow White with the whole “hair as black as night” and “lips red as blood” thing. The drawing of the young boy even looked to be around 14 years old, the age Snow White was supposed to have been in her story. 

 

The image it presented was perfect. Sam could definitely pull off young and innocent with that. Squeezing his eyes closed more tightly, Sam focused on sharpening the image in his mind.

 

(Crowley POV)

 

Crowley watched interestedly as the hunter before him began to shift and change forms. The demon was pleased that this particular ability was easy for him to use, it would help greatly with his spying and Crowley wouldn’t have to do as much.

 

Revenge wasn’t always convenient, but it was lovely when it was. 

 

The hunter’s new form began to take shape and Crowley leaned forward in his eagerness to see what the kid had come up with. When Moose’s new form finalized and his almost non-existent heart stopped beating. Before him stood just about the most--charming . . . yeah, charming . . . child the demon had ever seen.

 

_ How did he even come up with this look?  _ Crowley’s mind spat out in shock even as his mouth remained tightly shut and his eyes wide open. 

 

The boy was now small and slim, even looking small for his age which must have been either thirteen or fourteen. It was certainly shorter than Sam’s normal height. His skin was more pale than the snow around them . . . and that was barely an exaggeration, Crowley noted. 

 

Sam’s previously chestnut brown hair had turned to pitch-black, the slight curls at the ends having straightened out. The hair looked silkier, as well. They eyes! Oh, Lord, the eyes! How had it taken him so long to notice them? They were jewels!

 

_ Quite literally! _

 

Crowley would have believed it if he had been told that Sam Winchester had just envisioned jewels when thinking of the eyes. They were bright blue and so freaking clear! They were reminiscent of light blue tinted glass and the eyes (it almost felt disrespectful to use such a simple word to describe them) were framed by thick, black eyelashes. 

 

“Well?” Sam asked, patting his body down and looking at Crowley, expectantly. 

 

Swallowing down the lump that he quite suddenly found in his throat and also something else he didn’t want to think about at the moment, the demon made sure his voice wouldn’t catch before saying, “Well, this will certainly help you with the ‘small and innocent’ thing.” 

 

His voice sounded raspier than normal, but Sam thankfully didn’t seem to notice. 

 

“But I feel I must point out . . .” Crowley started, internally calmer and having noticed something. 

 

“Hm?” Sam asked, glancing up at the demon to see the man’s eyes firmly locked on his torso. 

 

“You’re going to need some smaller clothes.” Crowley stated.

 

Sam looked back down at his clothing, seeing it hanging off his now much smaller body. 

 

“But wouldn’t it fit with your plan if I wore clothes that were too big?” Sam questioned. 

 

Crowley inclined his head in a nod to the now very short young man. It was a good question.

 

Normally, yes, but we don’t want them to suspect who you really are because you show up in the exact same outfit you’ve been walking around in in your true form earlier that very day! And in the exact same size clothing, no less! If they’ve done enough research on you and Squirrel to have your car and stop at the same diners you two would . . .”

 

Crowley drew off, finishing the sentiment unnecessary. A quick glance at Sam’s face showed he understood now what a dead giveaway that would be. This was simply why Crowley was the brains of the operation.

 

And Sam was the pretty face, apparently. And Crowley was not going to think about that again.

 

“Then what?” Sam inquired, looking down at himself again and probably wondering if he should go home and change. 

 

“Well, we get your new self some new clothes.” Crowley stated, his lips curling up into a smirk. He smoothly turned on his heel and stalked out of the alley they were stashed in, not giving Sam the time to argue and leaving the hunter to chase after him.

 

_ It’s lucky it’s so cold out or this might not work.  _ Sam thought, as he trudged heavily through the snow covered streets. 

 

There was literally no one else in the streets, the denizens of the town were either lounging snugly in their homes or clinging to warmth in the many shops that littered either side of the road. There were many cars parked alongside the walkways, already covered in snow as the substance rapidly fell from the sky.

 

A frigid gust of ice wind blew across his face, pinkening his cheeks and causing Sam to shiver and try to burrow down into the slightly warmer clothing he was currently wearing, given to him by Crowley. 

 

_ At this rate, I won’t even need to pretend to be desperately seeking shelter from the cold.  _ Sam shivered again, curling even tighter into his clothing as his feet worked to make a pathway in the snow. 

 

Still, his short stature really seemed like an asset now, Sam looked on the bright side as he thought back to what Crowley had done to him after telling Sam what he was to do to wheedle into the Leviathan’s clutches. 

 

“Find the impala that looks exactly like ours, sans the license plate.” Sam murmured to himself the first set of directions Crowley had given him when he sent Sam on his merry way. 

 

At first, Sam was at a loss of how to find the car. There weren’t a lot of cars parked along the streets or even driving them, but there were a lot of streets. Crowley had been “kind” enough to bring Sam to the town that the pair of Leviathan masquerading as him and Dean were stopping in, but wouldn’t bring him to the exact location. 

 

Sam’s whole motivation was supposed to be that he was cold and in need of shelter. Crowley apparently went for realism and simply  _ had  _ to force Sam to trudge through the snow in search of the right car. 

 

Once he found it, Sam had no doubt he would be cold, weary and snow covered. His small body shivered as another gust of wind blew at him, again curling into his new clothing. Yep. No doubt. 

 

That realism was probably also why Crowley bought him slightly warmer clothing, but not too much warmer. He couldn’t look like he was too prepared for this weather or even like he had any money or items besides the clothing on his back. For his motivations to make sense, he needed to look like a kid who didn’t have a home to go to for shelter. 

 

Crowley hadn’t mentioned much on that part of his cover story, but Sam imagined that he would either have been kicked out or, since he didn’t know if he could continually pretend to be missing his home and his parents, or he could have run away from whatever home he had because he was in the foster care system. Hopefully he would have time to think about it more before he had to answer any questions.

 

Because Sam was, at this point, using his thoughts to distract himself from the bitter cold, he almost walked right past it. 

 

Freezing in place, Sam’s eyes slowly drifted over the impala. It was an exact replica of their own, save for the license plate. Seeing it in person was just eerie. 

 

Sam shook himself. Now that he’s found it, he had to get into position before the Leviathan showed up. Speaking of which . . . where were they- oh. Turning around to look at the shop behind him brought Sam face to face with a burger joint not unlike the ones he and his brother frequented. 

 

He should have known. 

 

Turning back to the car, Sam reluctantly dropped down onto one knee on the ground in order to get better access to the lock on one of the rear doors. He then withdrew the lockpick that he always carried with him from his pocket and began picking the lock. 

 

Cold water from the snow underneath him soaked through his jeans as Sam worked on the lock until - 

 

_ Click! _

 

The car door was now unlocked and not a moment sooner, too; Sam felt like his kneecap had been turned into a block of ice while he was on the ground. Gratefully, Sam stood up and slowly opened the door. 

 

By this point, Sam was cold and tired and the comparatively warmer temperature and dryer interior of the car was too inviting to warrant any kind of restraint. He shuffled into the back of the car, easy to do with his small body, and closed the door behind himself. He moved around on all fours on the seat before finding a comfortable spot and slowly slid down onto his stomach. 

 

Now lying face down on the car seat, Sam folded his arms and planted his face right in them. Sam let out a sweet hum of contentment. It was still pretty cold in the car, but it still took the edge off the icebox chill outside and the seats were the same familiar fabric of the impala that Sam had slept in so often as a child and even long into his adult life.

 

With his eyes closed and pressed against his arms, it was relatively easy to pretend that he was in his impala. That he was taking a nap after being exhausted by their latest hunt, with his brother in the front seat and singing to the radio. And, pretending he was with his brother and everything was as it should be, Sam’s mind dulled and he fell asleep.

 

**(Leviathan POV)**

 

The Leviathans disguised as Sam and Dean Winchester strolled out of the diner like they bought the place; not that they actually wanted the disgusting grease-coated dumpster. 

 

Originally, they’d intended to turn the place into a bloodbath before they left, but ultimately decided that they were too close to the last location they did that in and having the cops end up chasing them instead of the real Winchesters would be inconvenient. 

 

“That stuff makes me sick.” Leviathan Dean griped in Dean Winchester’s deep, raspy voice. He wiped his hand across his mouth for what felt like the hundredth time in an hour. Looking at his hand and seeing that it came away with yet more grease, Leviathan Dean wondered if the deplorable substance would ever go away.

 

“You won’t be sick.” Was Leviathan Sam’s bland response. 

 

“Yeah, you get to say that.” Leviathan Dean responded, testily. “You have to eat rabbit food all day, but at least you don’t have to choke down wet, dead animal meat to keep up appearances.” How no one recognized them in the diner was beyond them. Humans were idiots. 

 

The two Leviathan reached the car. “Whatever. Let’s get going, I want to get some real food before we leave this snow encrusted shit hole.” Leviathan Sam said. He was getting hungry and hunger brought with it irritability. 

 

“Fine. I could go for a snack, too.” Leviathan offhandedly replied, as they reached the car. He pulled out the car key, but didn’t bother to use it on the door. They always left the front doors of the car unlocked so he and his partner just popped the door open and slid in. 

 

It was as he turned around to grab a gun from a duffle bag on the floor in the back that he saw it. It was simultaneously sprawled out and curled up on the backseat. From the feel of it, it seemed to be human, not a demon inhabiting a human or one of those nasty little creatures that turn into mutts during the full moon or drink human blood. Nope. Just a regular human.

 

That made its presence there all the stranger. By the looks of it, the human was an adolescent; still a child. And it was asleep. In their car. Okay . . . why?

 

“What’s the holdup?” Leviathan Sam demanded, annoyed. 

 

“I think we have a stowaway.” Leviathan Dean answered, not taking his eyes off of the little bundle in the backseat. 

 

Taking the cue, Leviathan Sam maneuvered himself into a better position and peered into the back. His eyes popped right open in surprise when they fell on the curled up human. “Should we call the boss about this?” He questioned, glancing away from the child as he spoke. 

 

“No.” Leviathan Dean said, making an executive decision. “We can take care of this ourselves, it’ll be like it never happened. Besides, you did say you wanted a snack.” He smirked as he reopened his door and slid back out. 

 

“It’s hardly big enough to even count as a snack.” Leviathan Sam scoffed, following his partner’s lead as they stationed themselves on either side of the car, both gripping one of the rear doors. 

 

“Stop complaining, will you?” Leviathan Dean’s deep voice rumbled. Without any more preamble, he wrenched the door on his side open, grabbed the child’s arm and pulled them out of the car. He then let go of the boy as he tumbled out and took an immediate step back. 

 

The small human let out a startled shriek, having woken during the fall to the ground. 

 

“Oof!” The human made a sound of pain as his back and probably also his head collided with snow covered concrete. 

 

Striking blue eyes that almost made Leviathan Dean rethink the child not being a supernatural creature were wide open. They stared in fear at the Leviathan standing above him and the Leviathan stared back, a sick grin twisting his features. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the cliffhanger, but it felt like just the right place to stop this chapter. I promise we’ll get more into the plan in the next chapter, but we did see a good bit of it in this chapter.


	3. Act

_ This is it.  _ Sam thought, his eyes no doubt displaying his horror as he looked at the abomination above him. 

 

If this was what all Leviathan looked like, he could see why god locked them away in Purgatory. The creature standing tall above him looked like his brother on the surface, but Sam’s new ability revealed his hidden grotesque features. 

 

His other face had no eyes, but instead had one big mouth that took up the entire face and wrinkled the skin around it. The huge, wide open mouth was filled with perfectly displayed rows upon rows of sharp, jagged teeth. It was like a shark mixed with a chainsaw. 

 

Sam’s small body was wracked with shudders as his mind slowly caught up with him. It was time to make or break Crowley’s plan. This was it. 

 

Doing his best to keep a frightened and fearful look on his face (not that it was hard in this circumstance), Sam did the best thing he could think of to set this whole thing into motion. He opened his mouth . . . 

 

. . . and let out a bloodcurdling scream. 

 

By this time, the other Levia-thing, the one that (jarringly enough) looked like him, joined the first and stood next to him. They both looked understandably shocked about his reaction to seeing them. It would be an overreaction to the situation, unless . . .

 

“W-What’s wrong with you?” Sam gasped out, sounding every bit as terrified as he hoped he looked. 

 

The one that looked like him glanced over at the one who looked like Dean, presumably checking to see if his fellow Leviathan knew what Sam was talking about; he didn’t. Leviathan Dean was just as confused, but he was the one who verbalized it. 

 

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong with us’?” The Leviathan demanded, his voice and expression so much like Dean’s that Sam had to fight the strong urge to close his eyes and turn away from the sight.

 

Instead, he kept his eyes wide and plastered on the Leviathan version of his brother. “Why are your f-faces like that?” Sam asked, attempting to appear to be in shock. 

 

“Like what?” Leviathan Sam curiously interrupted his irritated partner. 

 

“Y-your mouths. They take up your entire f-face . . .” Now, here’s hoping these evil assholes took the bait. 

 

**(Leviathan POV)**

 

The kid had looked so pathetic and so very human. He was nothing special, really. Even when he had freaked out at the sight of them, Leviathan Dean was a little curious because it was quite an overreaction (sure the kid was surprised, but still), but he still didn’t think the kid was anything special. 

 

That was, until the kid said what they did. 

 

Their mouths took up their entire faces. That is what the kid said. 

 

He saw their true faces, but how could that be? He was a human so that should be impossible. And yet . . .  the boy looked at them with such fear, as if he were looking at something horrible, which he was if he saw them as they truly were. The boy’s eyes were like blocks of ice, chilled, as he gazed at Leviathan Dean and his partner. 

 

His partner hadn’t seemed to have reached the same level of dumbfoundment that Leviathan Dean had. He seemed to be trying to react to this situation more like a human might. “Hey, kid--” Leviathan Sam fixed a hesitant look onto his face and reached out toward the child. 

 

A human would have seen this as a gesture to help ground the child, born out of a genuine concern for the kid’s welfare. Leviathan Dean saw it was for what it was; an excuse so that he could touch the little guy and when his partner got his hand on the kid, there would be no escape. 

 

The kid seemed wise to the danger of getting near him, though. The blue eyes widened even further when he saw Leviathan Sam’s hand approach and the human  _ literally scuttled  _ backwards out of reach. 

 

“Get away from me!” The boy shrieked, his wide eyes flitting between the two Leviathan. 

 

“Hey, kid, calm down . . .” Leviathan Dean started, glancing around the area in case anyone saw them out there through the shop windows. He doesn’t try to reach towards the child, himself, yet. 

 

“What are you?” The boy asked, quieter this time, his gaze trained on the Leviathan directly in front of him, Leviathan Dean. 

 

The ice blue eyes pierced into Leviathan Dean with an intensity he hadn’t known the little human possessed. It urged the Leviathan to tell the truth and if he were any lesser creature, he would think he was being controlled by those peculiar eyes. As it was . . . Leviathan Dean smirked. 

 

“We are the Leviathan.” he said dramatically, gesturing outwards with his arms. 

 

The human got an odd look on his face at that. It was like the boy wasn’t sure what reaction he should have and switched intermittently between looking horrified and looking confused. Leviathan Dean decided that that was the result of the boy recognizing the term “Leviathan”, but not knowing what to do with that knowledge.

 

_ Poor child,  _ Leviathan Dean smirked. 

 

“Are we still going to eat the kid?” Leviathan Sam distracted him, whispering the question quietly so the kid wouldn’t hear and try to run. Not that running would be successful. 

 

Leviathan Dean looked at the child, who looked at him in return, and his grin widened. The kid shrunk back when he did this, making Leviathan Dean wonder if he could see his human face as well as his Leviathan one. He knew his human face must have looked frightening, could feel the features twist into a smile that no human should have been able to pull off. 

 

“No.” Leviathan Dean answered, not turning to his partner. “This human is special. We’ll call the boss and ask what to do with him.”

 

Leviathan Sam appeared heavily disappointed that he wasn’t going to get a snack and Leviathan Dean knew he was going to end up having to stop somewhere so they could eat. 

 

“Alright.” Was all Leviathan Sam said as he quickly reached forward and grabbed the boy’s ankle before he could get away. “Come here, Kid!” He barked. 

 

The kid panicked. 

 

“NO! Get off! Let go of me!” The kid screeched, violently kicking and tugging at the Leviathan’s hold. 

 

“Not happening.” Leviathan Dean spoke calmly. “Now, why don’t you just calm down and come with us? It’s just for a little while, we won’t hurt you.” Probably lies, but the kid didn’t need to know that. 

 

“No!” The kid continued to thrash while Leviathan Sam moved to restrain him. 

 

“You think you could get the door?” Leviathan Sam asked, glancing at him in annoyance, probably because Leviathan Dean was enjoying this situation so much. Leviathan Sam wasn’t exerting himself overpowering the small human, but it seemed to be a task in and of itself to keep all of the wildly flailing limbs down at once.

 

Chuckling, Leviathan Dean got up from the ground and popped open the rear door that the kid had previously fallen out of. Ready to help get the kid inside, Leviathan Dean turned around just in time to hear the kid start screaming like a banshee and then have his head bashed into the ground by his partner. 

 

“What are you doing?” Leviathan Dean snapped, rounding on his partner. 

 

“What? It was screaming. People were going to hear if that went on.” Leviathan Sam shrugged his shoulders, only further irritating Leviathan Dean. 

 

“And what if you damaged the goods? How do you think the boss will react if he finds out we found a human that could be useful and then you messed that up by bashing its head in?” Leviathan Dean demanded, reaching under the kids arms to lift it up and into the back seat. 

 

“There’s no lasting damage.” Leviathan Sam sounded sure, but Leviathan Dean could sense a hint of unease. No one wanted the boss mad at them. 

 

Leviathan Dean closed the back door and moved to get in behind the wheel, Leviathan Sam following his lead. “We need to find a hardware store, something to keep the kid still until we hear from the boss.” He sent a sideways glance at his partner as he slid into the car. “We will not be hitting him over the head again to keep him quiet.”


	4. In Motion

Sam didn’t know how long he’d been asleep. He couldn’t remember how or where he’d fallen asleep, either. The first thing he’d become aware of was a slight headache and the dull pain in the back of his head, like he’d hit it on something.

 

He tried to move onto his side so that whatever wound he had on the back of his head wasn’t pressed against the surface he laid on. He immediately ran into a problem when he couldn’t bring his arm up without the other coming with it. Glancing down at his wrists, Sam was met with the sight of his hands bound together by a large piece of rope.

 

Years of being a hunter and waking up in similar situations allowed Sam to calmly assess the situation. At this point, he remembered that Crowley’s plan had worked and Sam had been kidnapped by the Leviathan. Sam couldn’t say that he was surprised, Crowley had thought it through so well that it was hard not to be confident that it would go well . . . for a while, at least.

 

What Sam couldn’t help but find interesting was the behavior of the two Leviathan that he’d allowed to capture him. The Leviathan, though they predated humans and probably also angels, seemed for all intents and purposes to have brushed up on being the quintessential villains.

 

Thinking back on it, perhaps they had to watch Dean’s favorite movies to prepare for their imitation. The Leviathans even acted dramatically, like the villains in the shows Dean watched all the time. Like they were putting on a show. Dean even said that they had a damn good evil laugh, having heard it when the Leviathan first possessed Castiel.

 

At the thought of their lost friend, Sam’s heart hurt and so he chose to focus on the ropes around his wrists, instead.

 

Moving his arms slightly, just to test the bindings, Sam found that they were tied very well. The bindings were just this side of painful and left the bare minimum of wiggle room. It might have been enough for Sam to wriggle out of, but the skin of his wrists would be torn and bloody if he did that.

 

If this were any other situation, like that time he had been kidnapped by a skinwalker, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do just that. He also could have, since his hands were tied in front of him, sit up in the car seat, open the door with his hands still bound and manage his way into a nearby store where he can ask for help.

 

Getting loose wasn’t part of the plan, though. He was supposed to stay here; tied up, if that’s what they wanted and let them take him wherever. Here’s hoping they take him somewhere he can be useful and actually find out information, like to their boss or his headquarters.

 

Please, god, don’t let them take him to a safehouse! He’d be removed from everything then! Geez, and he was always telling Dean he doesn’t think their plans through before diving in.

 

Shimmying his body, Sam pushed himself up to lean against the interior of the car door and finally began to take in his surroundings. Well, he was tied up inside the impersonator impala, that much was obvious. The Leviathan versions of himself and his brother left him resting here, but where did they go?

 

Peering through the windows in front of him revealed nothing special, just a bunch of stores on a nondescript street, without so much as a street sign in sight. Hoping there was something more informative on the other side of the street, Sam shimmied and turned around to look out through the window behind him.

 

He was immediately met with a large building, bearing a sign that read “Merced City Police Department”. The faux impala was parked right in front of the police department.

 

Suddenly, a sinking feeling settled in Sam’s stomach. They weren’t in there . . . were they? Surely they wouldn’t attack cops!

 

But then Sam realized. They didn’t care.

 

They were an ancient evil; the Leviathan. The police didn’t know how to handle them, but they could kill any humans they wanted, no problem. They had been doing just that for some time now, looking like Sam and Dean. Why wouldn’t they do the same thing now?

 

What was worse, Sam couldn’t do anything to save those people unless he wanted to blow his cover and he couldn’t do that. He needed to do this for Dean, to give him some line of defense against the Leviathan.

 

Sam’s ice blue eyes winced at the thought that introduced. If the two Leviathan were in there killing police officers while looking like Sam and Dean, Dean was the one that would suffer the backlash from it.

 

It was at that moment that two men strode out through the front doors of the police department. They both wore uniforms and could easily have passed as partners, chatting with each other as they made their way to the street.

 

The giveaway was the red stuff covering their mouths. They both looked like they had participated in a cherry pie eating contest without the use of their hands . . . and the only way Sam knew what that looked like was because of a time when Dean had dragged his younger brother to a county fair when they were teenagers.

 

This wasn’t that, though, and the red on their lips wasn’t cherry pie. It was blood.

 

The Leviathan on the left was beginning to wipe the blood off his face, while the one on the right didn’t even bother and just changed forms. Before Sam’s very eyes, the average looking man in a police uniform morphed into Dean, wearing his usual shirt and jeans combo. His partner also decided to morph and they both sauntered over to the impala.

 

The Leviathans slid into the front seats, their positions a mocking parody of Sam and Dean’s usual dynamic, with Sam in the passenger’s side and Dean in the driver’s seat. Sam felt bile crawl up his throat at how easily these monsters pretended to be them and yet how sinister it all was under the surface. It was like they were made to become Sam and Dean Winchester.

 

Before Sam could think too much more on it, Leviathan Dean turned to look at the back seat and locked eyes with Sam.

 

A slow smirk spread across the face of the Leviathan. “Well, well. Look who’s up.” His voice sounded smug and eerily cheerful. “You took quite a hit to the head, there. You seeing alright? How many fingers am I holding up?” Sam didn’t even have to fake his flinch when the Leviathan reached out towards him while holding up three fingers.

 

Leviathan Dean seemed surprised by his reaction, but let out a dark chuckle once the surprise wore off. "Don’t worry, Kid. We’re not gonna hurt you.” He stated lightly, wearing a wide, friendly grin.

 

The throbbing at the back of his head begged to differ. Sam glared at the Leviathan version of his brother and deliberately looked over his shoulder at the Leviathan version of himself.

 

Leviathan Dean caught on quickly, snickering as he looked between his partner and Sam. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about my partner, he’s kinda violent.” He spoke as if they both hadn’t just been inside that police station, tearing apart innocent human beings.

 

“But not as sadistic.” Leviathan Sam threw in over his shoulder.

 

“But not as sadistic.” Leviathan Dean agreed nonchalantly, nodding like he was hearing the gospel truth and not once looking back over his shoulder at his partner.

 

“But enough about me, let's talk about you and what you said back there.” Damn, who knew Dean’s features could look so foreboding.

 

_What I said?_ Sam wondered for a second before it clicked in his head. _He must be referring to me seeing their true selves. Time for some more acting._

 

Making his eyes wider and adding a touch of confusion, Sam asked, “W-What do you mean?” He leaned back almost imperceptibly into the seat, he knew the Leviathan would notice it and take it as a show of fright.

 

Leviathan Dean seemed to think for a minute, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek and his eyes piercingly taking all of Sam in, like a hawk. “How about this?” He asked after a moment. “What do I look like to you?”

 

In response to the question, Sam forced himself to look, really look, at the Leviathan in front of him. His new, blue eyes looked beyond the hair and the eyes and the face. His second sight peeled away the human skin, pulling back as the mouth widened into something akin to a black hole with shark like teeth. The green eyes disappeared completely and an elongated tongue flicked out of its mouth.

 

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. The creature before him looked just as hideous as it acted, every bit a monster. How these creatures could act human at all was astounding. Just a few seconds of looking at it and Sam couldn’t take it anymore.

 

With a great shudder, Sam pulled his sight back and watched as the Leviathan’s face morphed back into that of a human; the wrinkled skin stretching out as the mouth receded, teeth becoming smaller and more blunt. His brother’s green eyes peered back at him, curious and calculating.

 

Sam realized the kind of horrified expression he must have on his face. He stared in terror at the Leviathan silently watching him. Feeling more than a little detached, Sam felt his mouth fall open and form words that sounded to his own ears as if someone else was speaking them.

 

“Like a monster . . .” The whisper sounded ominous in the car, blue eyes staring in frightened shock at faux green eyes.

 

Leviathan Dean paused and even Leviathan Sam gave up the pretense of disinterest in their conversation, turning around in his chair to peer back at Sam, like his partner was doing. Sam glanced away from his double in time to see the slow smirk spreading across Leviathan Dean’s face.

 

“There’s no doubting it now.” The Leviathan spoke in his brother’s drawl. “Somehow you can see through our disguises, which means you could be useful.” It seemed like the Leviathan was speaking as much to his partner as he was to Sam.

 

“So, kid, what’s your name?” Both his expression and tone were trying for something casual, which might have worked if Sam hadn’t just seen his true face.

 

Sam ignored the question and instead acted like a scared hostage. After all, they knew he could see their true forms, but he shouldn’t know anything about the Leviathan or what they’re doing.

 

Sa began to tug at his binds in muted panic, glancing up at the Leviathan from underneath his eyelashes. “Useful for what? Why are you doing this? Where are you taking me?” He forced his ice blue eyes to look hopeful and pleading, though he knew the Leviathan were heartless creatures.

 

Leviathan Dean peered back at him unwaveringly and reached into the back seat as he spoke. “Hey, we’re treating you fine, except for that knock on the head.” His fingers tugged lightly at the bindings around Sam’s legs as Sam tried to squirm away.

 

Sa, wasn’t sure if he just checking to make sure the rope hadn’t loosened, but the look in his eyes showed he was enjoying the action far too much.

 

“As for what we’re going to do, we don’t know yet. We don’t usually go to hotels, don’t need much sleep, but we’ll make an exception for you.” Leviathan Dean drawled. “We’ll stay at the motel for a while while we call our boss and see what he thinks about it. Guess you could say what he says decides what happens next.”

 

“Your boss . . ?” Sam asked, uncertain.

 

“Yep.” Leviathan Dean smirked. “See, we’re on a bit of a mission at the moment, boss’s orders, but if an unknown variable pops up, we’re supposed to tell him right away.”

 

“And you are definitely an unknown variable.” The calm, cynical voice from Leviathan Sam stated. Sam’s own eyes drifted over to him at hearing the words, but he still couldn’t get used to looking at the Leviathan wearing him and brought his gaze back to the Leviathan wearing his brother, not that that was much better.

 

“Right.” Leviathan Dean agreed with his partner, amused. “Don’t worry, Kid. We’re probably not going to hurt you. Though if you scream . . . well, my partner is a man of action.”

 

Sam’s eyes widened at the threat and he looked back to Leviathan Sam, who gave a nonchalant shrug that practically said ‘yeah, I am’.

 

_Well, that’s comforting._

 

While this was happening, Leviathan Dean had started the car, pulled back onto the road and started driving.

 

_So._ Sam thought. _At least I now know something about where we’re going, they’re taking me to a motel and then they’ll wait there until they get further instructions._

 

“So, Kid, your name?” Leviathan Dean’s voice reminded him.

 

“What?” Sam asked, confused. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t caught what the other man had said.

 

“Your name, Kid, your name.”The Leviathan repeated, thumping his fingers on the steering wheel.

 

_Crap!_ Sam’s eyes got wide as he tried to build some semblance of a poker face. This wasn’t something Crowley had brought up. He didn’t know what name to give them. He couldn’t use Sam or anything close to it, the Leviathan are a lot of things, but not stupid.

 

No, it would have to be something completely unrelated to his true name.

 

“Hey, come on, we already caught you. It’s not like telling us your name is gonna hurt.”

 

He couldn’t pause for too long, either. There was only so long he could stall before the Leviathan realized that he wasn’t just just scared to tell them his name.

 

What was he going to say?


	5. Yellow Walls

“Well, Kid?” Leviathan Dean prodded, Sam still reticent to say his name. Sam was lucky that he was apparently being questioned by the more patient one and not his partner.

“My name is . . . ah, it’s . . . ah . . .” Why was he fumbling so much? You’d think he’d been asked for the secret of the universe instead of a single name. “Coleman!” He suddenly cried out as if struck by lightening, before blushing and shrinking back in his seat.

“. . .”

“. . .”

“. . .”

What the hell did I just say?!

“ . . . what . . . the hell did you just say?” 

“Um . . . my name is Coleman, but people call me Cole . . .” Sam drew off, looking unsure and mentally berating himself. What kind of name was that?!

“Your parents hate you or something?” Leviathan Dean squinted at him. 

“M-Maybe?” Sam replied, looking back at him with wide eyes. 

“Mm.” Leviathan Dean hummed. “It shows.” Sam couldn’t think of a way to reply to that. “Cole it is, then.” 

And Sam let out a mental sigh of relief. Safe, for now. 

(Leviathan Dean)

Why did he scream it like that? Leviathan Dean wondered, but shook the thought from his head. No matter, it was unimportant. Humans were irrational creatures, trying to look into everything they do would be a foolish endeavor. It was most likely embarrassment at such a stupid name. Besides, there were bigger decisions to be made. 

Leviathan Dean smirked back at their human hostage and didn’t bother looking back at the road as he drove, knowing there wasn’t a soul out except for them and his partner would let him know if he needed to dodge something. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He mockingly asked. 

The boy began to glare at him, before softening his features and staring at his feet. “No.” The kid answered in a small voice. 

The Leviathan couldn’t help feeling pleased with this human’s submissive reaction. Things might become boring if Cole just curls up in a ball when either of them came near him, but it would certainly make watching him easier while they wait to hear back from their boss. 

Leviathan Dean and his partner both seemingly decided that they were done talking to the human for the moment and he didn’t seem so keen on conversing with them, either. 

(Sam)

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d been talked into this by Crowley, but it had to have been several hours. He also didn’t know how long they’d driven after the Leviathan ceased making conversation, but they eventually came to a motel and stopped at it, just like they’d said they would. 

I wonder why we didn’t go to a hotel, though. Sam thought. With the ability to take any form they wanted with a little DNA, they should have had no problem coughing up the cash to pay for as many nights as they wanted, especially with Dick Roman as their boss. 

Looking like Sam and Dean wouldn’t be a problem because they could just change back to the policemen they looked like before or some other random people. Even Sam didn’t look like himself at the moment and it didn’t really seem like the Leviathan’s style to make do in a crummy motel when they could have something better.

The two Leviathan wasted no time in sliding out of the car. “I’ll get the room.” Leviathan Sam stated and headed towards the dilapidated building’s front office while his partner opened the rear door on Sam’s side. 

Sam had enough warning with the door so that he didn’t fall out a second time. The Leviathan grabbed Sam’s shoulders and turned him around so that he was sitting on the edge of the car seat with his feet hanging down off the edge. 

“Now.” The Leviathan kneeled down and his green eyes stared into Sam’s blue. 

This is not your brother. This is not your brother. Sam mentally chanted to himself as he stared into his brother’s eyes. 

“We’re going to untie you.” Leviathan Dean continued, largely unaware of what was going on in Sam’s head. “I’m going to walk you to the room my partner is renting as we speak. You are not going to try to get away or alert the person working at the front desk to call the police or anything like that.” 

The green eyes peered even harder and colder into Sam’s. “You won’t get away and it will just get the people involved killed. Anyone you involve, we’ll just kill and you wouldn’t want that, would ya?” Sam wasted no time in quickly nodding his acquiescence. 

The Leviathan meant what he said, he really did. The naive kid that Sam playing might have doubted that, but the hunter that he had always been had a much better imagination. How many innocent people had the Leviathan killed already? A motel owner was nothing to these monsters. 

Sam drowned the urge to glare and talk back at the Leviathan version of his brother. After all, he wasn’t a hunter here and it was not his job to fight. Instead, he gazed fearfully at his brother’s form and gave another vigorous nod. 

The Leviathan stared at him for another moment before taking out a knife and cutting the bindings on his legs. Gripping his arm with inhuman strength, Sam was pulled none too gently out of the car. Maybe it was him having ridden in a car for who knows how many hours, but the ground felt dangerously unstable underneath his feet. 

Thankfully, Leviathan Dean allowed him time to stabilize before undoing the binds on his wrists and dragging him to the front office. Just before going inside, the Leviathan stopped, leaned down to Sam’s ear and firmly whispered, “Remember what I said. You scream, he dies.”

Sam was pulled into the office before he could even think of responding. The interior of the office was typical of the bottomfeeder motels Sam’s family stayed in throughout his childhood. The wallpaper was a dirty, unattractive green and the disgusting carpet was brown (hard to tell if it had always been brown, but Sam would bet otherwise). The front desk was cluttered, more with nicknacks than papers, but there were plenty of bills thrown carelessly on the counter.

Behind the counter, also a familiar sight, was (presumably) the owner in an office chair, watching something on a very small and outdated TV with his back to them and the front doors. Leviathan Sam stood waiting on the other side of the very small room. He was looking around the place like it was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen. Sam could relate.

“Got the room?” Leviathan Dean queried, striding towards his partner without releasing his grip on Sam. 

“Yeah, room 32. Just down the hall, there.” He stated, jerking his thumb behind him at a yellow door that looked like it was made of driftwood. When Sam and Leviathan Dean got closer, Leviathan Sam opened the yellow door, leaving it hanging open and disappearing down the hallway that appeared behind it. 

The last Sam saw of the front office was the owner still in his chair and still ignoring their presence. He hadn’t looked at them once since they’d entered. It suddenly dawned on him why his captors chose a motel when they could have afforded the best hotels. 

Privacy. It was all about privacy. The same reason that John had always had them stay at seedy motels during and between hunts; the owners were less likely to pay attention to their comings and goings. Using there was one person, two max, working at a time so visibility was down, lowering the chance of being caught doing something wrong. 

Even if they were caught doing something wrong, including incredibly suspicious shit, the owner would most likely just ignore it and mind their own business. Perfect when you’re hiding a captive. 

The man didn’t give Sam the time of the day as the yellow door closed in the boy’s face. 

Neither of his captors said anything to him while they made their way down the hallway, so Sam just counted the room numbers as they passed by them. 

29 . . . 30 . . . 31 . . . There.

Leviathan Sam already had the key in the lock of room 32. The door, like all the rest, looked like driftwood stapled to the wall and the lock looked like it had been beaten in with a sledgehammer. Sam thought it was a wonder the lock still worked and with the way Leviathan Sam seemed to be struggling with it, the lock seemed to be just hanging on.

“Jiggle the key a little.” Leviathan Dean advised him, not loosening his grip on Sam’s arm. 

Leviathan Sam made a peeved sound, but did begin to violently jiggle the key. After a few more seconds, the lock popped and the door swung open. “Shithole.” He angrily muttered under his breath, stepping into the room. 

“Alright. In.” Leviathan Dean instructed Sam and dragged him into the room. 

Like the rest of the motel, it was brown and bland. Sam was relatively comfortable in such squallor, but the Leviathan both sneered. Walking him over to the bed, Leviathan Dean forced Sam down onto the mattress, walking away once he made sure the boy wouldn’t try to stand back up.

“Ready to call the boss?” Leviathan Dean asked his partner, who nodded. 

Blue eyes watched from the bed as Leviathan Sam whipped out his cell phone and stepped into the small, cramped bathroom, closing the thin door behind him. 

An uncomfortable silence covers the room as Sam and Leviathan Dean were left with nothing to do. Leviathan Dean paced back and forth for a few seconds, his footfalls disturbing the tentative silence. Then, the taller man huffed out a sigh, walked over to a chair and sat down on it, turning to stare at Sam.


	6. A Little Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and see if I can post a chapter every two weeks instead of every month. I'm in a good place in life to try it out, but I'm not sure how long I could stick to that kind of schedule. Still, consider the two week counter starting now.

Sam shifted and lowered his eyes, uncomfortably. The silence came back and so did Sam’s worries. 

I hope Roman won’t think I’m too much trouble and have these two kill me on the spot. 

A chill went through Sam’s small body at that. No, as much as he hated it, he needed to rely on Crowley to navigate him through this.The demon had sounded so confident that Roman would see Sam as a useful tool. Crowley’s words ran through his head. 

Trust me. You’ll be one of a kind. Believe me, Roman wouldn’t pass you up for anything in the world! I know I wouldn’t . . . Don’t worry! You’re perfect! Sam didn’t have nearly as much confidence as Crowley did, so all he could do was hope Crowley was right.

“Okay there, Cole? Not thinkin’ too much?” Leviathan Dean asked, his tone implied that Sam doing any thinking at all would be too much. 

Confusion entered Sam’s eyes before he remembered why the Leviathan was calling him “Cole”. He needed to remember that better from now on. They can’t be allowed to doubt you, Crowley’s voice reminded him. This was going to be a lot to get used to. 

“Kid! Hey, Kid! Come back to me.” Leviathan Dean called, now leaning forward in his seat to get Sam’s attention. 

Slightly unused to talking after so many hours of silence, Sam cleared his throat tightly. Remembering to speak in a small voice, so as to seem nonthreatening, Sam spoke. “Yes?” His voice sounded disconcertingly smaller than he had meant it to in the silent room. 

“You zoned out a bit, there.” The smirk was back and Sam imagined sharp teeth poking out of its mouth. 

“Oh.”

“That all you got to say? Nothing you wanna talk about? No questions you want to ask?” 

Sam’s first reaction was to act innocent and not ask anything, but the whole point of this was to be a spy and find out information. “There is something I want to know.” Sam looked up through his eyelashes, something that always used to get Dean to do what he wanted when they were little. 

“And that would be?” The monster asked, nonchalantly.

“So . . . you called yourselves the Leviathan?” Sam started. He waited for Leviathan Dean to nod before continuing. “And you said that you two have a boss?”

“We did and we do.” Leviathan Dean smirked, waiting to see where the boy would go with this.

“Then there’s a lot of you?” Sam made sure to sound unsure.

“A bunch.” Leviathan Dean said casually. 

“How . . . many, exactly?” Sam tried to ask subtly, like he wasn’t asking something incredibly important. 

“More than you can imagine.” He replied smoothly. His tone made it clear that he wasn’t interested in giving any more detailed information on their numbers. 

“Okay . . .” Sam mumbled, moving on. “How long have you been here o-on Earth? Since the beginning?”

The Leviathan got a strange look on his face. There was a long moment where he simply sat, taking Sam in. When he answered, the creature seemed strangely pleased with the direction this conversation was now going.

“We were there in the beginning. We were pleased with this world, it tasted so good and we ate our fill. We liked it here, but God didn’t appreciate us and locked us all away in Purgatory. We were trapped there for millennia, forgotten, but now we’re free to walk the Earth once more.” 

He gave an eerie smirk. “We haven’t been here long, but we plan to stay for quite a while.” 

Sam had absolutely no doubt that that was their intention, but he would be damned if he allowed that to happen. He felt his resolve to be a spy for Crowley harden into something that could cut glass. 

They lapsed into another uncomfortable silence after that, with Sam subtly shifting, belaying his nerves, while Leviathan Dean continued to stare at him, neither blinking nor losing the unnerving smirk. Luckily, it didn’t last more than a couple seconds and Leviathan Sam opened the bathroom door, apparently finished with his call.

“Can I see you in here for a minute?” Leviathan Sam asked, but it sounded more like a statement to Sam. 

“Be right back.” Leviathan Dean winked at Sam before getting up and heading towards the bathroom door. 

However, the evil version of his brother stopped just before going inside the small room and threw one last threat over his shoulder. “Remember, don’t bother trying to run. We’ll just track you down and kill the guy in the front office and anyone else that gets in our way. Best if you just stay put and not cause any more trouble.” Having said all he wanted to, Leviathan Dean followed his partner into the bathroom and closed the door. 

Sam would admit that he had been kidnapped or otherwise abducted an uncomfortable amount of times by creatures that he or his family were hunting and it was not often that whatever had caught him (or his brother) restrained him with words, threatening deadly retrobution to someone else, in order to gain his compliance.

Monsters normally preferred to use rope. 

It was a legitimately good threat, delivered with just the right amount of promise and malice that, if Sam weren’t here intentionally to spy on them, would have definitely ensured the boy wouldn’t go anywhere. 

Sam waited a couple of seconds to make sure the door wouldn’t open again and then crawled off the bed. Sam didn’t know how good the monster’s hearing was, but he didn’t want to find out the hard way. So he slipped as quietly as he could from the bed to the floor and began crawling on all fours over to the bathroom door. 

His face heated up, no doubt with a heavy blush settling on his features, at the thought of how silly he must look. Even if he were in a child’s body at the moment, he was a grown ass man and a trained hunter, crawling on his hands and knees in a dingy hotel room to listen in on two monster’s conversation through a thin bathroom door. 

Sam remembered a time when there was some dignity in the work he did. 

Pushing himself up to lean slightly against the bathroom door, but still supporting most of his own weight, Sam pressed his ear against the door and tried to manage his own erratic heartbeat. He was rather pleased with how quietly he managed to do all of this. 

“-nothing much, just wanted to know what we are, where we came from.” Leviathan Dean’s voice replied to some question his partner must have asked. It took Sam a second to realize that his partner must have asked what he and Sam were talking about while he was on the phone. 

“What’s the boss want us to do? Bring the boy or bury him?” Leviathan Dean’s voice was dripping with a chilling humor as he talked about disposing of a child’s life as if it were funny. Sam couldn’t stop a shiver of pure fear and unease from travelling down his spine. 

“Boss wants to meet him. He said he’ll make the decision then, but the boy will likely be incredibly useful. Our mission has changed. Someone else will deal with the Winchesters. We’ll bring the kid to Headquarters. Boss gave strict orders that the kid is not to escape and he is not to be harmed under any circumstances.”

“Not a hair on his head, huh?” Leviathan Dean asked, amused, like he already knew the answer.

“Pretty much.” Leviathan Sam replied, shortly. Sam couldn’t help but equate it to how he sounded after he’d had a tiring day and he was just annoyed by it all. 

“Got it. Anything else?” Leviathan Dean’s voice sounded right by the door, the knob turning slightly. 

Startled, Sam crab walked backwards trying to be both as quiet and as fast as he could. Back bumping against the bed, the undercover hunter practically crawled backwards onto the bed and pressed himself against the wall at the head of the bed. 

The bathroom door opened just as Sam got into position and forcing himself to stop moving. Leviathan Dean came through the door, sauntering and smirking the whole way out. The smirk on the Leviathan’s face grew when his green eyes landed on Sam. He came over to sit down on the side of the bed closest to Sam. 

Leviathan Sam came out of the bathroom next, everything from his expression to the way he carried himself showing that he was all business. He took the other side of the bed and stretched himself out. 

The body the Leviathan was using (Sam’s body) was much too long for the cheap bed, which made the position uncomfortable, judging by the disgruntled look on the Leviathan’s face. 

It was at that moment that Sam realized the small room had only one bed. Internalizing that fact, Sam wondered how this was actually going to work. It wasn’t like he had much information on how or if Leviathan slept. 

“So, do I sleep on the floor or something?” Sam asked, making sure his voice higher pitched and innocently questioning. He didn’t want to oversell it, but a little bit of cuteness never hurt anyone; it always worked on Dean. 

Upon hearing his question, Leviathan Dean chuckled as if he found the young man’s naiveté amusing. The other Leviathan closed his eyes, looking for all the world like he was tuning out their conversation.With the other Leviathan apparently leaving dealing with Sam to his partner, Sam turned to Leviathan Dean for the answer to his question. 

Looking down at Sam, Leviathan Dean clearly took too much pleasure in informing him. “In the bed, between us, of course.” He smirked down at the boy with sheer malice. 

. . . what? . . . what?! 

Those few words immediately overran Sam’s mind with panic. Sleep between these two monsters?! He’d stay awake the whole night worrying his ass off that they’d eat him in his sleep! 

Sam knew that it didn’t matter that they were just going to bodyguard him until they got him to the Head Dick, he would still spend the night steeped in paranoia. 

“I-I can’t!” Sam cried, knowing some of the panic he was feeling came across his face.

If anything, the smirk on the Leviathan’s face widened further. “You don’t have a choice in the matter.” He smugly informed the panicking child. “We won’t be staying here for long and we don’t take many stops, so enjoy sleeping in a bed while you can. We’ll leave soon and then you’ll be using the backseat of a car as your bed.” 

Sam starting debating on whether or not he should just jump out of the bed and take up residence on the floor or curl up on the only chair in the room, when the green eyed Leviathan’s hand came down on the boy’s chest and forced him to lie down. 

“Don’t bother trying anything, You’re staying between us, where we can keep our eyes on you. Not like we sleep anyway.” Leviathan Dean scoffed the last bit. 

Laying there, between two predators, Sam knew he could fight. He could make a big deal out of every little thing and not give an inch; struggle the whole way. 

But what would come of it? What would he get for his effort if he did that? 

Sure, if it were his dad or brother, the answer would be simple. Pride, it was a matter of pride and Winchesters had loads of it. They’d fight tooth-and-nail about anything and Sam was raised to be the same way. He wasn’t John or Dean, though, and he was on a mission. 

The Leviathan could overpower him, possibly outrun him, definitely outnumber him. He couldn’t get away and that wasn’t what he wanted at the moment, anyway. If they wanted to, they could force him to do whatever they wanted, he didn’t get a say. 

A scared and confused human would lay back and do what he was told until he knew what was going on, which he shouldn’t yet. 

Sam forced his body to relax, even as his hunter’s (as well as his newfound) instincts urged him to stay alert with these supernatural creatures. After a few tense seconds of staying relaxed, Sam’s effort was rewarded with the hand being removed from his chest. 

It would probably take a few hours, but Sam determined to get some sleep. Sam sighed wearily and covered his eyes with his arm. 

It was at times like this that Sam wished he were an optimist.


	7. Haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter, People!!

Sam wasn’t sure what time it was when he was woken up. He was groggy, was the first thing he became aware of. He came back to consciousness very slowly, much too slow for a trained hunter. 

“-Up! Wake up!” A stern voice hissed at him. This was the next thing Sam became aware of. The voice seemed familiar, incredibly so, but his sleep addled mind couldn’t quite place it. 

And then Sam woke up completely in one, terrifying second. Fear and confusion mingled in the young man’s mind, as his eyes darted around the room he was in, desperate for something familiar to tell him where he was. He found it, as his eyes eventually landed on the being standing before him.

Its face was familiar alright, because it was Sam’s. Of course, Sam had never seen his own face look so threatening, so maliciously annoyed. That’s when it all came back to him; Crowley, being captured by Leviathan, the crappy motel. Sam bit back a groan; he’d thought it was a dream!

“Hey, get up!” The monster masquerading as him demanded. Sam didn’t say a word and just got out of the bed. He didn’t feel like arguing and he was awake now, anyway. Leviathan Sam returned and favor and didn’t say anything else to him. 

“Ready to hit the road?” Leviathan Dean questioned, opening the door and already making to step out into the hallway. 

“Ready, let’s go.” Sam found himself being herded out the door and down the hallway. 

The entire way out, he was flanked by both monsters. To someone looking at them, the creatures on either side of him would look more like his bodyguards than his jailers. 

The sky was still dark, so it was either really late or really early. Still no words were spoken while Sam was ushered into the car. Knowing that he would just be manhandled if he objected, anyway, Sam obediently crawled into the backseat of the car, making a point to strap on his seatbelt.

Leviathan Dean got behind the wheel and pulled out of the parking lot. Sam watched the motel get further behind them as the car drove off into the night. The car ride was nothing special, with his Leviathan captors alternating between stark silence and discussing business deals that Sam didn’t understand a word of. 

During the silent moments, Sam seemed to be the only one uncomfortable. Rides were never quiet when he and Dean were driving in the impala. If the two brothers weren’t talking, then Dean was blasting music through the speakers. This almost loud silence, only punctuated by the sound of gravel under the car’s tires, was completely foreign to him. 

To Sam’s relief, there were times when the partners did talk and they used that time to discuss Leviathan business, but he sadly didn’t understand most of it. They talked about this person or what person and what they were doing in the vague generalities of people who already knew most of the details about the situation being discussed. 

It left Sam feeling like he’d come in the middle of a conversation and was trying desperately to catch up. 

Sam glanced down at his necklace, which should have a receiver in it for Crowley to pick up whatever Sam heard. He now felt incredibly thankful for the little piece of jewelry, really hoping that Crowley was listening in right then and would be able to find some use in what the Leviathan were saying.

It was at some point after it started getting light out and during one of the silences that the fact that Sam hadn’t eaten since the afternoon the day before made itself known. Amplified by the quiet, somber atmosphere, Sam’s stomach gave a resounding rumble. Both Leviathan, almost as one, turned around to stare at the young man. Sam unwillingly felt a strong blush creep up his neck. 

Leviathan Dean smirked, seeming to realize what the problem was. “Hungry?” He asked, confirming it. Sam didn’t want to answer him, but he did want to eat. He looked up through his bangs and gave a small, shy nod. 

“Alright then.” Leviathan Dean replied. Smirk widening, he and his partner turned back to face the road. 

They drove for a little while longer until they entered a new town and a diner came into view. Casually pulling off the road, Sam’s captors pulled into a parking space right outside the diner. The sad thing was that it really did look just like someplace Dean would normally stop at. 

After the car parked, Sam unlocked his seatbelt. The Leviathans didn’t need to unbuckle anything as they hadn’t seen the need to put on their seatbelts. It wasn’t like getting into an accident would kill them. 

When the Leviathan partners didn’t immediately say or do anything, Sam reached for the door handle so he could slip out, only to find the door locked. Startled by this, Sam turned his eyes to the front of the car. 

After a moment, Leviathan Sam spoke. “We might not have to remind you, but we will, regardless. Don’t talk to anyone while we’re in there. We are going to go in, eat our food and leave. Trying to get help will result in death and nothing else.” 

“Anyone who gets involved will get hurt and that may include you. Get in, get out. Got it?” Leviathan Dean finished. 

Samuel Winchester thought that he might have been imagining it, but he could have sworn the temperature in that car dropped ten degrees during the monologue. In his head, Sam saw the image of some innocent bystander dying for him. His mouth suddenly felt dry and cottony. 

“Got it, Cole?” Leviathan Dean asked after he remained silent. 

Even after having so many fake names for hunting jobs in his life, Sam flinched at the foreign sounding name. It sounded abrasive to his ears. Unable to answer with his throat still feeling like something was caught in it, Sam only nodded to acknowledge his acquiescence. 

Seemingly happy with that, the back door was unlocked and the to Leviathans slid out. With his body suddenly feeling stiff and slow, Sam forced his limbs to move. 

He languidly opened the door and slipped out of the car, feet landing on the ground with what felt like the entire force of Earth’s gravity. Almost as soon as his shoes touched the dirt, Sam was flanked on both sides by Thing 1 and Thing 2. 

Walking to the front door of the establishment, Sam thought that a diner had never looked so foreboding. The bell above the door gave a cheery jingle as the small group walked through. Both Leviathans flashed polite, but genuine looking smiles to the waitress before covertly herding Sam towards a booth in the corner. 

If anyone noticed how stiff Sam was or noticed anything wrong with the men herding him, they didn’t show it and no one bothered them. Sam was roughly shoved into the booth and was then boxed in by the two Leviathans. 

The way they arranged themselves had Sam trapped against the wall with Leviathan Sam taking up the seat beside him and therefore blocked the booth’s exit. Across from them sat Leviathan Dean. As a hunter, Sam recognized the strategic move that gave his captors more physical and emotional control over the situation. 

The waitress came by, smiled at them and handed out the menus. “Is there something you’d like to drink?” She asked no one in particular, flashing yet another smile. 

“We’ll all get water.” Leviathan Sam answered, his smile somewhat tense. Leviathan Dean’s smile looked no less disinterested, but far more charismatic and seemed to work for the waitress, who smiled wider and left. 

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Leviathan Sam turned to Sam and asked, “What do you want to eat?” He then looked down at the menu in disgust. 

Sam looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised that he’d even bothered to ask what Sam wanted. “You’re asking what I want?” Sam couldn’t stop the words from passing his lips. 

“What can we say? We’re feeling generous.” Leviathan Dean replied calmly, not even looking up from his menu. 

Sam’s first instinct was to order something he normally wouldn’t ask for. Ordering one of his usuals would reasonably act like a beacon to creatures that had studied and imitated them for who knew how long. Pancakes, Sam decided. They were something he liked, but did not order often. 

As he opened his mouth to answer, another thought occurred to him. “You eat . . . normal food?” Sam inquired delicately, trying not to upset them. 

“We don’t have to.” Leviathan Dean answered, disinterestedly. “It definitely doesn’t taste as good to us, but it’s good to keep up appearances.” 

“Don’t know what I want.” Leviathan Sam grumbled. “It’s all so disgusting.” 

“Get eggs.” Leviathan Dean advised his partner. “Every place has eggs.” 

“An unfertilized bird embryo made up almost entirely of liquid, that has been fried in a fatty oil. Great.” Leviathan Sam stated sarcastically. 

Sam actually felt almost offended by that line; he liked eggs. Though he would admit that the way the Leviathan described it did make the food sound disgusting. Sam wondered if that was how their kind saw all human food, besides humans themselves. 

The waitress eventually came back, apparently not taking note of Sam’s tense form.

Ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?” She asked, a line Sam had heard before far too many times. 

“We’ll both take the egg breakfast.” Leviathan Sam told her. 

“Both?” She clarified, noting that there were three of them. 

Me and my partner.” Leviathan Sam specified, nodding to Leviathan Dean, who smiled politely. 

“And how about you, honey?” The waitress, her name tag said Lucy, all eyes subsequently turning to Sam. 

“I’ll have the buttermilk pancakes.” Sam answered in as small a voice as he could manage while still being heard. 

He was trying to be unassuming, as pissing off his captors or gaining too much attention could possibly result in a massacre. It wasn’t like they held any respect for human life. 

“Great choice. Coming right up!” She cheerfully replied, probably taking him for the shy sort, and practically skipped away to the kitchen. 

Sam peered up through his fringe and ended up watching the Leviathans follow the overly preppy Lucy’s movements in disgust. The Leviathans didn’t do anything else until their food arrived. 

Still tense, Sam grabbed his plate when it was handed to him and setting it down on the table in front of him. Even though Sam was so hungry that his stomach ached, he hesitated to eat. 

Something about constantly being in the Leviathan’s company made him feel like his appetite was permanently lost. It was because of this hesitation that Sam saw the piece of paper partially sticking out from between the pancakes. 

Maybe someone just dropped the paper in my food accidentally. Sam mentally told himself. Still, his eyes darted between his two captors to make sure they weren’t looking and then he tried to subtly pull the paper from the pancakes.

Maybe it was his paranoia that the Leviathan would look up and catch him, but the action felt inexplicably like King Arthur pulling excalibur from the stone. It took a little bit to work the paper out, while not drawing attention to the action, but he somehow managed it. 

Now, how to read it without them noticing? Sam used his free right hand to grab his fork and pick up some pancake. Using his left hand, Sam held the letter so that he could read it out of the corner of his eye. There was so little written on the strip of paper that Sam easily read it even as he diverted part of his attention to bring a bite of pancake to his lips. 

Do you need help? - Lucy

The waitress had slipped him a note . . . because she had somehow figured out that he’d been kidnapped? This realization so surprised him that Sam quite simply choked on the pancake. The boy coughed viciously and his hand automatically reached for a nearby glass of water. 

Drinking from the glass and coughing up a bit of water in the process, Sam was finally able to get his coughing under control. 

Sam then became aware that his spectacle had gained both the Leviathan’s attention. Quickly (and hopefully subtly), Sam stuffed the note into his pocket, hoping against hope that they hadn’t already seen it. 

“You alright there, Kid?” Leviathan Sam asked, eyebrows raised in what might have been amusement if it came from someone who actually seemed to be able to feel positive emotions. 

“Fine.” Sam choked out, desperately hoping they wouldn’t start questioning him about it. Luck seemed to be on his side for once.

“Well,” Leviathan Dean started in a way that reminded Sam achingly of his brother. “I’m going to see if they have any pie at the counter.” 

Sam’s stomach churned dangerously, reminding him that he was still barely functioning on an empty stomach. Pushing all thoughts of Leviathans and what to do with Lucy off to the side for the moment. So he simply worked on filling his stomach so that his body didn’t break down on him. He was only halfway through his pancakes when Leviathan Dean got back to their booth. 

“No pie. Let’s go.” He gruffly stated. His partner didn’t seem to have a problem with the abrupt departure and swiftly slid from the booth, leaving behind his barely touched plate of eggs. 

Sam considered objecting, but ultimately decided that he didn’t want to cause a scene, especially with the waitress trying to get involved. So, Sam obediently slid out of the booth after it, leaving behind his pancakes. 

They left the diner with Sam not knowing of the Leviathan had even paid for the food. Not that Sam had expected them to care, he really shouldn’t have been surprised. Feeling kind of like the president with their bodyguards, Sam was shepherded out the front door. 

Before Sam knew it, he was back in the car, as if he’d never left. An ambiguously unnerving feeling, he decided. The leviathans were chatting about something or other as they took their respective seats. Sam heard the Leviathan version of himself asking why he couldn’t drive. 

It was as they were pulling out of the diner and onto the street that Sam turned his head to look out the window and spotted something. Hi eyes landed on what he thought, at first, was a homeless person sleeping next to the diner. 

The person was sitting on the ground, legs stretched out with their back resting against the outside wall of the diner. Their head hung down towards their chest, like he’d seen tons of times when people fall asleep while sitting someplace. This and the hair obscuring their face made it hard to tell how old they were, but the body type suggested it was a woman. 

Three truths made themselves apparent to Sam in the crucial seconds following his observations: 

The outfit the person was wearing was indicative of them being a waitress at the very diner they were leaning against. 

The lack of breathing movements and the sight of what looked very much like blood peeking out from under the hair covering her neck called into question whether or not she was actually sleeping. 

And the name tag still pinned to her chest said LUCY. 

Sam felt something inside himself crumble. They knew. They knew about the note, they had to or else why target the waitress? What were the odds that she would only die after she tried to help him? Astronomical, that’s what. 

Leviathan Dean didn’t leave the table for pie and, in hindsight, it made little sense that he would. No, he left to search out the threat and eliminate it; a poor girl whose only mistakes were trying to help him and thinking she was dealing with humans. 

It was all his fault. If he had just acted better, more relaxed like his captors, she wouldn’t have known if anything was wrong. She wouldn’t have died for him, for nothing. That’s what she died for. Nothing. 

Suddenly, Sam felt faint. 

Not really thinking of car safety a the moment, Sam unbuckled his seat belt and laid along the back seat of the faux impala. 

“Hey! You better not die if we get into an accident.” Leviathan Dean called over his shoulder, looking at him through the rearview mirror. 

Sam couldn’t find it in himself to reply in the moment and the Leviathan didn’t say anything else. Sam’s thought on what he’d just seen swirled in an endless loop in his mind, torturing him with guilt and sorrow. An innocent life had been cut short. He was supposed to stop things like that, not cause them. 

He let the thoughts torture him, torment him. Eventually, his eyes once again became heavy and he closed them. 

The car stopped. Without a seatbelt, Sam’s small body rocked with the motion and almost sent him falling to the floor. His eyes felt crusty and heavy and took a while to force open. When he did open them, the boy found himself blearily staring up at the interior of the car roof. 

Did he go to sleep? When? For how long? His head tilted back, judging the light of day through the window. The sun was setting, meaning that he had slept the entire day away. Sam felt a detached sense of panic well in himself. 

Before his panic could progress, he was interrupted by the Leviathans, whom he had forgotten for a moment were still there. 

“Get out.” Leviathan Sam ordered, shortly. Leviathan Dean had already left the car and seemed to be talking to another Leviathan outside the car. 

When Sam didn’t rush to comply with his order, Leviathan Sam got out of the car, wrenched his door open and practically lifted him out of the car. He led Sam, with a firm grip on his arm, to the door of the building they’d parked in front of. They, along with the two other Leviathans, who were still talking, entered the very tall and modern looking building structure. 

Several Leviathan were waiting for them in the lobby, with one of them seemingly more important standing in the middle. He smiled winningly at Sam when he saw him, a cruel tilt to his lips, and walked towards the boy. Standing right before the boy, he held out his hand for Sam to take. 

“Welcome. I’ve been expecting you.” Dick Roman said.


	8. Dick Roman

The man practically radiated sleeziness. It was downright palpable, coming off him in waves. Sam was sure it wasn't just because he could literally see just what kind of monster this thing was. He and Dean had seen Roman on TV an even then he'd seemed equal parts charming and threatening.

Now, Sam could almost choke on the smell of threat in the air. How did people trust this guy? 

"What? Not a fan?" Roman asked playfully, something that might have sounded pleasant to some people who weren't currently choking on his presence. 

The statement did, however, finally get Sam to take Roman's extended hand. Play nice, Sam reminded himself. He looked up at the taller man (or thing possessing a man) through his fringe, so he could evaluate Roman without outright staring at him. 

Except for the feeling of nefariousness, Roman looked just like he did on the news. He was a lithe man who looked relatively strong for his weight class, but that wasn't saying much. 

That, added with his intellectual businessman persona gave the impression of someone who could be thrown around rather easily. Certainly not someone who Sam would think was as powerful as a Leviathan. 

He was also a bit pale with cold, dark brown eyes and a slim, long nose. His suit looked impeccable, unrealistically so, like the Ken doll of politics. There were two men on either side behind him. Likely bodyguards of some sort. 

“I’ll take it from here.” Roman said. His grip on Sam’s hand was firm but non-threatening. 

Definitely the handshake of a politician. Probably something it took forever to practice to perfection. Sam thought. 

Sam didn’t look behind him at the Leviathans that brought him there, but he heard shuffling behind him, leading him to believe that they were going elsewhere. The other Leviathans that made up the large group behind Roman and his bodyguards also seemed to take this as their cue to get back to work. 

All around them the creatures dispersed, but Sam never took his eyes off of Roman and, in return, Roman never let go of Sam’s hand. After all the others had left, barring the bodyguards, Roman gave what was obviously supposed to be a charming. 

It was quite simply lost on Sam. 

“How about we take this to my office?” Roman asked amicably, but Sam had the distinct impression he didn’t have nearly as much choice as it sounded. 

“Of course.” Sam forced out, his throat feeling like it wanted to close up. 

Roman’s smile widened at Sam’s words and finally released the boy’s hand. “Excellent.” He said and turned his back to Sam, proceeding towards an elevator behind what looked like a reception desk. 

Sam reluctantly followed, while the bodyguards took up behind him. Bird in a cage . . . The term came to Sam. The man in a boy’s form shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought before it took root. Sam needed to keep his wits about him now that he was ground zero for Leviathan activity. 

Roman got into the elevator and flashed Sam a placating smile, patiently waiting as the boy stepped in beside him. The bodyguards once again took up behind him and Roman pressed a button for the top floor. Of course, this Dick’s office would be on the very top floor of the building. 

A small elevator, three Leviathans, and one of them being Dick Roman. That would make anyone claustrophobic and Sam was definitely feeling it on the way up. Figuring it would only be better for his character, Sam didn’t bother fighting the need to shift nervously. 

Finally, finally, the elevator dinged, signalling their arrival at the right floor and the door slid open. 

“Welcome to the top floor of Roman Enterprises.” Roman announced, sweeping his arms out in an open gesture. He seemed to be waiting for Sam to say something, but Sam merely cast him a frightened and wary look from beneath his fringe. 

“My office.” Roman smiled, continuing smoothly once he realized Sam was in no mood to respond. He turned to a door just across the hallway and confidently approached it. 

As usual, Sam followed and if he hadn’t been continuously hanging back from the man, he probably would have found it difficult to keep up with the man’s long gait. Only now did one of the guards overtake both Sam and Dick Roman, making it to the door before them and holding it open for the two. 

After they walked through, the bodyguard holding the door followed them into the office, closing the door behind him(or it)self, leaving the other standing guard outside the office. The office was very large and incredibly modern. 

Sam could just imagine the leader of the Leviathans playing human and bringing in a human interior decorator just to have the office his ego demanded. There were a few bookcases lining the walls, made of a rich looking wood like mahogany. The walls of the spacious room were a deep blue with white trim along the top. 

The wall across from the door was made entirely of glass with a desk and chair right in front of it. The desk was a corresponding light blue that almost appeared to be made of sea glass, while the top of the desk was absolutely made of glass. 

Before the desk was a chair that looked similar to the sleek black one behind the desk, but was also reminiscent of the plush recliner that at Bobby’s house. 

Sam tried his best to shake off the sharp pang at the thought of his pseudo father, while Roman took a seat behind his desk, crossing one leg over the other and clasping his hands together. 

Looking behind him, Sam saw the bodyguard leaning against the wall next to the door, both obviously watching them and giving off a not-paying-attention vibe. Sam turned back around after a second to find Roman watching his shrewdly, chin resting on his clasped hands. 

“Please take a seat.” He gestured towards the plush chair with a hand. Sam sat without complaint and felt himself sink into the soft fabric, even if his body remained tense. 

“Now,” The man started, his eyes piercing into Sam. “You wouldn’t happen to know who I am, do you?” By his tone, it was hard to tell if he expected Sam to know who he was or not, but Sam would guess that he did. 

“You’re Richard Roman.” Sam replied, figuring that his knowing the guy wouldn’t be suspicious, since Roman was all over TV. 

“Please, call me Dick.” Roman gave a pleased smile. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“No?” Sam asked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. 

“A few of my men called me a little while ago, the ones that brought you here. They gave me some intriguing information about a curious child who can see things that other humans cannot.” 

He paused, seemingly in case Sam wanted to add something, but Sam didn’t and so Roman continued. “Tell me, what do I look like to you?” He questioned. 

“Human . . . mostly.” Sam replied, hesitantly. 

“Mostly?” Roman inquired, patiently. “And how do I look the rest of the time?” 

“Horrible.” Sam breathed, allowing some of the disgust he felt as Roman’s true form leak into his voice. 

“Intriguing.” Roman said, looking more curious than insulted. “How so?”

“Big mouth . . . and sharp teeth.” Sam spoke haltingly, cautiously. 

Roman was quiet more a moment, just taking Sam in. “It seems my information was accurate.” He spoke pleasantly, a shark-like grin trying to emerge.

“Why am I here?” Sam asked, shifting in his seat. 

The Leviathan’s smile quickly widened. “Here, at Roman Enterprises, we have high hopes for the coming years.” The Leviathan started, sounding like he was on a talk show rather than in a private meeting with a child. “We can’t rely on our company’s name alone to reach our goals.” 

“Of course.” Sam agreed, feeling oddly twilight-zone-ish about this conversation. The smile widened further and Sam began to wonder if someone could actually break their fact that way. 

“We need the members of our group to be intelligent and proactive and to do as they’re told.” 

And I’m meant to do as I’m told, too, am I? 

“Have you seen other strange things? People walking around that don’t seem quite . . . human?” 

Sam thought to himself, recalling his first real look at Crowley. “Sometimes I see people with dark auras. It feels scary being around them and sometimes I see them as having two faces.” 

Sam ensured his blue eyes widened in fright at the supposed memory. 

“Indeed? That’s good.” Roman looked practically elated at that. 

“Good?” Sam inquired, acting confused.

Roman leaned over the desk. “My dear child.” The endearment sent an uncomfortable chill down the boy’s spine. 

“Not all humans can do what you cando. See what you see. In fact, until you were brought to my attention, I though no humans could see such things. Your existence astounds me.” 

Sam would have thought the Leviathan was lying to him to get Sam on his side and laying it on a bit thick, too, but the Leviathan really did have a mild look of awe on his face as he gazed upon Sam. The amazed disbelief that such an abnormality could exist was right on his face. 

It struck Sam in that moment just how much he’d taken for granted the abilities Crowley had given him. Horrifying as they were, having them was a bigger deal than Sam had really considered. He could almost hear Dean’s voice in the back of his head, telling him off for not thinking things through and running in half-cocked. 

“You’re one of a kind.” Roman continued. “You could be very helpful to our cause.” 

“Your cause?” Sam questioned. Maybe he could get some useful information for Crowley. Roman just smiled in a plascating manner. 

“Nothing to concern yourself with at the moment. There will be plenty of time for you to grow accustomed here before throwing you in the shark tank.” Here, he gave a light chuckle, like he was making a joke even though they both knew he was serious. “Just down the hall from this office is a room I’ve had prepared specially for you.” 

“For me?” Sam asked, already dreading what Roman would say. 

Roman nodded. “It’s a graciously large bedroom with a large, comfortable bed and a desk for you to sit at. I had a few books purchased that children in your age group seem to enjoy. It’s all waiting for you in your new room.” 

“What?” Sam asked, shocked by what he was hearing. 

“I’ll be upfront right now, your access to areas outside your room will be restricted. You can explore Roman Enterprises and I do encourage it, but you must get clearance before being able to leave your room. If you want to take a walk outside, I insist you do so only with a chaperone. I know it must be hard to believe, but this is for your own protection.” 

“What?” Sam demanded again, his temper flaring as he wrapped his mind around the words. “So I’m being locked up for no reason? I don’t get a say in anything?” Sam had kind of expected something like that, but it didn’t make him any less upset at the thought of his freedom being taken away. 

“Don’t think of it as being ‘locked up’.” Roman replied, unperturbed by Sam’s upset, the bastard. “Instead, think of it as getting free room and board, along with the best security in America, with only the occasional consulting required from you in return.” 

Oh, well, when he says it like that, it sounds like a four star resort and what does he mean by “consulting”? 

“Food! How am I going to get food? Do you have a cafeteria here?” Sam asked, trying to get more freedom for himself. 

“That’s not something you need to worry about, all your food will be brought to you.” This time, Roman didn’t even try to fight the shark-like grin that spread across his features. 

“I think that’s enough questions for today, we’ll pick up again tomorrow. If there’s anything you need, merely ask my guards and they will either provide assistance or contact me. Now, please allow them to show you to your room.” 

Genial as it sounded, Roman’s voice left no room for argument and, even though he wanted to rant and rave and argue against being confined to a room, Sam reluctantly allowed the guard to place a firm hand on his shoulder and steer him toward the door. 

The guard used the other hand that wasn’t holding Sam to open the door for the boy and, together with the other guard that had been waiting outside the door up until that point, led Sam down the hallway . . .

. . . towards his new room and away from Roman.


	9. Crowley Calling

The room that Sam had been dropped off in was larger than most of the hotel rooms Sam’s family had stayed in, not like that was saying much. The bed was pressed against the back wall of the room and was also better than Sam was used to, again not saying much.

Someone else, even the frightened child Sam was pretending to be, might have taken the rather spacious room and reasonably luxurious furniture as a sign of kindness on Roman’s part, but Sam thought otherwise.

Either Roman got much nicer things than he’d needed to, in order to begin gaining Sam’s trust . . . or he was just egotistic enough to not want any items that were below his means in the building. Sam figured it was probably a mixture of the two.

The guards didn’t shove Sam into the room, but they damn well wanted to. After being manhandled through the threshold, Sam had to quickly shuffle more into the room to avoid being hit by the door as the guards slammed it shut behind him. Immediately, there were the sounds of locks clicking shut on the outside of the door and Sam knew he was stuck.

Looking around at the room more closely now, Sam noticed there were no windows. Even I wouldn’t climb out the window from this height; we’re on something like the twentieth floor.

There was a desk, empty except for a medium sized stack of books placed on it. In his peripheral, Sam noticed a simple door adjacent to the bed. Sam slowly walked to the desk. Standing before it, he started sifting through the stack of books, looking at all the titles.

A large part of him was just curious about what kind of books a Leviathan would buy, but another part of him was hoping for something he would actually want to read. After all, he was going to be stuck in this padded cell for a while (Sam tried not to think how long that might be) and he was bound to get bored. Might as well have something he could occupy himself with.

Sam read through the titles: Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Twilight. That last one really made Sam want to laugh. What was he, a twelve year old girl with daddy issues?

Sam had already read Harry Potter and he wouldn’t mind rereading some of the books, but A Series of Unfortunate Events strangely called out to him at the moment. Maybe it was because he felt like his life was a series of unfortunate events at the moment. Sam picked up the book and laid down on the bed and began to read.

He had been reading for about an hour and he could honestly say that he felt really fricking bad for the orphans. Seriously, Snicket was right at the beginning of the book! Suddenly, Sam noticed a soft buzzing coming from somewhere in the room.

Glancing around, the blue eyes landed on the desk and stack of books; the origin of the sound. Slowly closing his book, placing it next to him, and carefully slid off the bed. Shuffling over to the desk, Sam immediately noticed that there was a bulge in Harry Potter and the Half Blood prince that had definitely not been there before.

The blue eyed boy hesitated before reaching his hand out and slipped the book open to the indented page. A silver bracelet sat there, silver color seeming so pure that Sam almost expected it to reflect his face like a mirror. Sam reached out to it, blatantly ignoring the voice in the back of his head that told him the item could be dangerous.

As soon as the tips of his fingers brushed against the ethereal object, Sam felt the urge to put the bracelet on. The urge was very strong, like a fishing line was pulling at something in his stomach. Sam found himself sliding it onto his wrist without conscious thought.

“Hello, Honey.” A voice sounded from somewhere behind him.

Sam spun around to look behind him only to be met with the same empty room.

“What? Leviathan got your tongue?” The familiar term again came from behind. Spinning around again, Sam still did not see anyone.

“Stop that.” The now familiar voice spoke in an exasperated tone.

“Crowley?” Sam inquired. His eyes shifted around the room like he expected the demon to materialize out of the walls, but he didn’t spin around again.

“In the flesh.” Came the dry reply. “Well, sort of.”

“Where are you?” Sam asked, still feeling unnerved.

“Sitting on a throne in Hell.” Was the casual reply.

“You’re not here?” Sam asked, shocked.

“Nope. You can thank the lovely bracelet you have on your wrist for the conversation we’re having right now.”

The bracelet? “The bracelet?” He looked down at his wrist.

Crowley gave an agreeable hum. “It may not be safe for me to enter any building with Dick Roman in it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t sneak things in, if I want to.” Crowley sounded smug. “Of course, I had to add a little something to make certain you felt compelled to put it on.”

Sam decided he didn’t feel like starting a fight over Crowley using magic on him and let the demon continue talking, undisturbed. "I could have just continued listening in through the necklace, but I realized that Winchesters should never be trusted to act intelligently or to be left to their own devices.”

“Hey!” Sam squawked, indignantly. He and Dean were not children who needed to be babysat!

“What? You know it’s true. Not the point. The point is that you get more direction by being able to hear me at least some of the time.” Sam reluctantly agreed. “Now, tell me what your ‘cell’ looks like. Maybe there are weaknesses we can exploit.”

“Wait. You can’t see me?” Sam asked, remembering back a few moments ago, when Crowley had ordered him to stop spinning.

“I told you, I’m in hell. How could I see you from here? I’m not bloody God, I can’t see everything.”

“Then how did you know what I was doing?”

“You’re predictable.” Was the simple answer.

_I think insulting is like breathing for Crowley, Sam_  thought, wryly.

“Moose? The room?” Crowley reminded him.

“Oh, right!” Sam jolted. “I’m in a room on the top floor, just down from his office. It’s pretty big, locked from the outside and there’s another door in here, probably the bathroom.”

“Check for me.” Crowley ordered, but he didn’t seem to think there was anything extraordinary about the door.

Silently, Sam walked over and opened it, revealing a small bathroom. “Just a bathroom. It doesn’t even have a window.” Sam felt he needed to add.

“Good. Don’t want you getting any ideas about snooping outside by jumping out of a top floor window.” Crowley replied sarcastically, but he probably wouldn’t put it past Sam to do it.

“So you’re going to talk to me . . . in my head . . . through a bracelet . . . when you want to give me instructions?” Sam questioned slowly, his tone getting across just how ludicrous he thought that was.

“Basically.” The demon agreed. “And for when I have information on your brother, Wouldn’t you like to hear from the squirrel?”

“Of course!” Sam shouted into the phone, excited at the prospect of hearing from his brother. Despite how much they argued, he really missed the jerk.

“So,” Sam started, much more subdued this time. “Any ideas how I can get out of here?” After all, there was so much more spying he could do if he had access to Leviathan Headquarters beyond his room.

“Yes, actually.” The gravelly voice replied. “But, first, when’s the next time they’re planning on letting you out?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said, thoughtfully. “But Roman said that I could walk around as long as I get permission first.”

There was a short, thoughtful silence on the other side. “Do you need a chaperone?” The demon inquired next.

“Only outside.” The boy said, hopefully.

“Good, that can actually work. Knock on the door and get their attention, then ask about going out and exploring.” Crowley plotted.

“Won’t that seem suspicious? I’ve barely been here a few hours . . .”

“Then make sure to play up the cuteness.” Was Crowley’s answer. “I’ll come to call again when I have something new to tell you. Remember, the necklace is recording everything.”

That was all the King of Hell said before his voice cut out.

“He’s a menace.” Sam moaned as he went to the door keeping him separated from the rest of the building. He raised his hand, ready to knock in the manner he usually would; the loud, firm knock of a professional hunter.

Thankfully, his hand stopped just before making contact with the door. If he knocked like that, it would make him seem brash and irritating. Little things like that matter with how people view you.

When he was an intimidating adult acting like an FBI agent, seeming brash and intimidating suited him, but it didn’t work with his image now. It didn’t fit with a scared child being held captive by supernatural creatures he didn’t understand.

Instead, the man-child knocked lightly on the door. It was still firm, so it was sure to be heard by whoever is stationed outside, but hesitant in a way that young kids tend to be. Sam certainly remembered himself being a very shy and unsure child, so he tried to capture a bit of that in his mannerisms.

Still, Sam felt himself unconsciously stand up straighter as the door slowly slid open.


	10. Tour

The Leviathan that opened the door just happened to be the bodyguard that had stayed outside to guard Roman’s office while he and Sam talked. Sam really hadn’t really taken the time to analyze this one, too focused on Roman. Alone together now, the Leviathan uncomfortably towering over Sam and with both of them staring at each other, there was nothing better for the boy to focus on. 

 

Sam found that most Leviathans looked very unassuming. If it weren’t for the abilities Crowley gave him, Sam might not have believed they weren’t human. This Leviathan, though, took the cake.

 

He was tall, but not quite as much as Sam used to be. He was also slim, having none of the toned muscle Sam’s body had had. The Leviathan possessed dirty blonde hair with what could have been caramel highlights from a salon. 

 

His eyes were a deep green, kind of like what Sam imagined Harry Potter’s  _ avada kedavra  _ eyes looked like. The eyes would probably be pretty wide if the being controlling the body cared to show strong emotion. His appearance reminded Sam of the innocent, excitable young man he’d been when he first left for college. 

 

The boy who used to own this body was probably a lot like Sam when he was younger, barring the broken home and demon hunting dragging him out of college early. The reliability of the poor boy who was probably gone now, made Sam’s heartache furiously. 

 

He and his brother hunted to save people and they did did a good job of it. Yet, there were times like this, when Sam was reminded that innocents will always die. Being reminded by seeing an ancient monster wearing the empty husk of a kind-looking young man was like a sledgehammer to the stomach. 

 

“Yes?” The blonde’s lips formed the word, Sam’s eyes following the movement. 

 

“What’s your name?” Sam asked before he could stop himself. He knew the Leviathans often took on the names of the bodies they’d stolena and . . . he wanted something from the wasted young man to live on. That was really the best way he could describe it. 

 

Even keeping his face rather emotionless, the Leviathan did show a slight surprise and uneasiness at Sam’s question. There ensued a short pause when the Leviathan seemed to be debating on whether or not he should answer Sam’s question.

 

For his part, Sam made sure to subtly widen his eyes, affecting an aura of innocence. He didn’t know if it would get the terrible creature before him to answer his question any further, but the hunter figured it probably wouldn’t hurt. 

 

“Anthony.” The thing spoke, hesitation only barely perceptible. An awkward moment and then, “What did you want?” 

 

“I . . .”  _ Anthony, huh?  _ “I’m sorry, Anthony, I just wanted to explore. Hopefully, he sounded enough like a scared child. 

 

The Leviathan looked distinctly uncomfortable after Sam spoke. Maybe he wasn’t quite comfortable around children (being an ancient creature older than time itself) or perhaps it just didn’t like Sam’s easy use of its name. Either way, it seemed to pull itself together and move forward rather quickly. 

 

“I’ll have to ask the boss about that.”Anthony looked off to the side as he said it. He sounded quite like he wanted to escape the uncomfortable situation he’d found himself in. 

 

Sam wasn’t going to let him. 

 

“Really? Mr. Roman said I could explore as long as someone was with me.” He wasn’t about to risk Roman finding him a more strict and inflexible chaperone. 

 

Sam leaned forwards, like he was trying to slip out into the hallway, but the Leviathan’s body blocked most of the doorway and he didn’t look like he was planning to move any time soon. 

 

“I really should check with my boss.” Anthony replied, but he sounded less sure of himself this time. 

 

Sending up a ‘thank you’ to the universe for his history of hunting investigations where he had to weasel out information from tight-lipped victims, Sam quickly jumped on the hesitation presented to him. 

 

“D’you really think Mr. Roman will be happy being bothered by something so small?” Realizing he sounded overeager, Sam changed his tone to something more hesitant and made his expression more caring, looking up through his fringe (as he so often did) at the uncomfortable Leviathan. 

 

“I don’t really know what he would like . . . I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” Sam continued. 

 

The hesitation and worry displayed in the tall creature became even more visible. “I don’t mean to tell you what to do . . .” Sam pushed just a little bit further, his tone extra hesitant. 

 

“No no. Perhaps you’re right, the boss is not someone who’s time should be wasted on trivial matters.” He looked off to the side, his eyes looking like he was reliving a terrible memory. With him belonging to a group such as the Leviathan, Sam really had little trouble believing that  he was. 

 

Not a second later, the Leviathan seemed to come back to himself and cleared his throat, uncomfortably. “Since I am here, I will keep an eye on you while you  _ explore _ .” It mimicked the word Sam had used, likely in an attempt to keep the boy somewhat comfortable, but ended up being spat out like venom. 

 

Instead of replying, Sam stared out into the hallway, then looked meaningfully at the Leviathan before turning his gaze back to the doorway. Anthony seemed to catch onto what Sam was implying. 

 

“Before that, we need to set some ground rules.” Anthony’s tone of authority just didn’t seem to match him. Unlike the others that Sam had met up to this point, Anthony looked and sounded less like someone who was in control and more like someone who  _ wanted  _ to be in control.

 

“You need to stay by my side at all time, where I can see you. Don’t go off on your own and we are not going outside.” His tone brooked no room for argument. 

 

Still, Sam found himself almost pointing out that Roman had given him permission to walk the place alone and that it was only the outside where he needed a chaperone. Instead of engaging in an argument with the creature and presenting himself as more of a threat, Sammy acquiesced. 

 

Giving a small nod, he watched as the Leviathan moved to the side and placed its hand on the door handle. After Sam stepped out into the hallway, Anthony closed the door behind him and turned towards the direction of Dick Roman’s office and the elevator. 

 

Sam, wary of running into Roman, hesitated to follow. “Why can’t we go that way?” Sam queried with just a small note of desperation and pointing towards the blank stretch of hallway that went in the opposite direction. 

 

Anthony stopped and looked in the direction Sam was pointing before turning back to the boy. “There’s nothing back there.” He answered, breezily. “Not even any rooms, just more hallway. You wanted to go . . . exploring, right?” The creature questioned as it started making its way to the elevator. 

 

“Of course.” Sam quietly answered. He glanced back surreptitiously at the questionable hallway, but haltingly followed by Anthony. 

 

If Sam had thought he was uncomfortable with the Leviathans before, it was nothing compared to being led on an expedition around a Leviathan infested building. Most of the floors they visited were packed with Leviathan. Maybe not sardine packed, but it definitely drove home to Sam the idea of a busy office building.

 

Being near so many supernatural creatures that he couldn’t gank, riled the trained hunter in Sam. Seeing all their faces change between humans and monsters, thanks to his abilities, was frightening. And having them all stare at him in interest, as if he was some sort of marvel, was just uncomfortable. 

 

To make things worse, when he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, he was unbelievably bored. Floor upon floor of office buildings will do that to you. There wasn’t anything remarkable about the place from what Sam had seen of it, just a bunch of offices and monster employees doing paperwork and other menial tasks. 

 

_ But _ , Sam thought, sardonically.  _ Anthony’s probably avoiding the incriminating stiff. No point in scaring off the human kid.  _

 

Even though Sam was decently sure that he wouldn’t see anything really important during the tour, he could still get useful information out of it. Sam began memorizing the layout of the many floors of the office building. If he could get away from his guard or out of his room to look around later, knowing the building’s layout would be essential. Besides, he could still possibly get an idea of what some of the Leviathan’s smaller plans were. 

 

The sound of a phone ringing brought the impromptu tour to a halt. Anthony fluidly pulled a phone from his pocket, looking at the caller ID before answering in a polite and stilted tone. “Yes, Boss?”

 

Sam tensed, realizing it was Roman calling Sam’s bodyguard. 

 

‘Y-Yes, Sir, I have him.” Anthony paused, while listening to what Roman was saying. “We are currently on the first floor, by room 106.” He responded to a question. “Understood. Yes, Sir.” Anthony said, hanging up the phone and slipping it back into his pocket. 

 

“Alright, tour’s over.” Anthony suddenly said. 

 

“What? But all we’ve seen is office buildings?” Sam balked. 

 

“I don’t know what else you expected to see in an office building.” Anthony sounded disinterested. “It doesn’t matter, the Boss requires your presence.” He continued. 

 

Sam took a deep breath, seeing no way of avoiding another confrontation with Roman. “Where are we meeting him?” Sam asked simply. 

 

“He’s coming to us at the moment. I relayed our location and he requested you wait in the office right there.” Anthony answered, pointing to a door with the words OFFICE 106 on it. Sam gave a scoff at the Leviathan’s choice in wording. Yeah, he highly doubted that Roman ever  _ requested  _ anything. 

 

Sam soon found himself unceremoniously herded into the room, hearing the door close behind him. Anthony didn’t follow him in, meaning he was probably going to guard the outside again. 

 

_ How often does he usually do that?  _ Sam wondered, taking in the new room. 

 

It looked somewhat similar in color and layout to Roman’s office, except with more muted color tones and without the glass structures. The lights in the room were off, but since he could still see in the room clearly thanks to the light coming through the window, he didn’t bother turning them on. 

 

Sam jolted, suddenly realizing that he should be snooping around before Roman showed up.  _ What kind of spy am I?  _ Sam thought, ignoring his mind’s response of,  _ Either a bad or an out of practice one.  _

 

Sam bypassed the bookcase, figuring that he wouldn’t have the time to sift through them for something good and went straight for the desk. Sitting on the chair behind the desk, Sam tried the first drawer first (obviously), only to find it locked.  

 

Sam was running out of time.

 

He resorted to looking through the bottom drawer then and was met with an impressive amount of files. They were all either purchase agreements or store locations and names, some of which show up on purchase agreements. There were also a few papers that were different kinds of contracts, just signing over assets. 

 

Sam scanned each one quickly, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of them. He knew what they were, he just . . . didn’t know what they meant to the Leviathan. 

 

The doorknob turning caused Sam’s head to snap up violently. Time for snooping over! Sam folded two of the papers and stuffed it into his pocket. Sam could only hope that Crowley would find it useful. 

 

As the door swung open, unbeknownst to the person opening it, Sam’s hand shot out and grabbed one more item from the desk, hiding it on his person. 


	11. Meeting with Vamps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dubious business meeting and the beginnings of a conspiracy.

“Have you enjoyed your tour?” The voice of Dick Roman shattered the silence of the dark office. Sam stared at the monster before him from behind the desk, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

 

“Yeah . . . it was . . . it was fun.” Sam forced through a dry throat. 

 

Roman gave a superficial smile in response to the boy’s words and continued speaking. “Ready to go?” The look in his eyes made it obvious that the question was a mere formality and Sam had no real choice. 

 

“Where are we going?” Sam asked, irrationally avoiding moving from behind the desk. 

 

“A business meeting.” Roman answered simply. “Now, let’s go. Don’t want to be late, do we?” 

 

Only Sam’s previous training as a hunter allowed him to realize the creature was getting irritated with his evasiveness. With obvious reluctance, Sam walked to Roman who promptly led him out of the room and into the grasp of two more Leviathans that were acting as guards, none of which were Anthony. 

 

Roman swiftly headed down the hall towards the front desk area, with Sam and the new guards taking up behind him. Almost with their presence alone, the guards pressured Sam into nearly walking beside Roman. 

 

“What time is it?” Sam asked out of curiosity. This day felt long, very long, to him. 

 

“About seven thirty.” Roman answered, smirk in place and eyes staring forward unwaveringly. 

 

_ At night? Where could we be going so late?  _ Sam worried. 

 

It was already pretty dark outside when Sam felt himself being bundled into a luxurious limousine. Seriously, it was like the kind he’d seen on TV in every way. It had plush seats, a mini fridge, and a mini bar that was just this close to being a regular sized bar. 

 

With Sam following Dick Roman inside and the bodyguards following him, Sam realized just how spacious the backseat of the limousine was.  _ A miniature ballroom _ , Sam’s mind dramatically supplied the comparison. 

 

The famous window separating the driver from the others riding in the car was also present and it illogically made him feel even more trapped in the car. Far too soon for the young hunter, the limousine started moving and Sam was being taken by the Head Dick to an unknown location for a suspicious “business meeting”. 

 

One tense drive later and Sam felt the limo being parked somewhere. He couldn’t tell where they were, though, because the windows were all rolled up and darkly tinted. Making the situation even stranger, none of the Leviathan made a move to exit the car. 

 

_ Why are we just sitting here?  _ Sam’s thoughts felt loud in the eerily silent car. Was the business meeting in the limousine, then? Huh . . .

 

Roman’s attention, which had been on the phone in his hands up until this point, was turned to Sam when the younger man lost the fight to not wriggle in his seat. “When our  _ guest  _ gets here, I think it would be best if you didn’t say anything until he’s gone.” Roman said to him, the order clear in his voice. 

 

Oh, how Sam wanted to grit his teeth and spit out something nasty. A Winchester, no matter which one it was, always resorted to snarking and insults when faced with a monster. It was almost all Sam could do to not glare defiantly at the creature that dared to have him kidnapped and then order them on how to behave. 

 

_ But you aren’t a Winchester here,  _ Sam had to remind himself.  _ You’re a scared kid that’s spent the last couple days being dragged around by horrible creatures that won’t tell you anything.  _

 

Becoming aware that Roman was still watching him for a sign of assent, Sam mentally collected himself and gave a meek nod. Seemingly satisfied with this, Roman gave one of his patented superficial smiles and returned his attention to his phone. It wasn’t too much later that the aforementioned guest showed up. 

 

Sam had begun drooping in his seat as he fought to stay awake. The opening of the door to their compartment did wonders for that as Sam shot up to see who’d entered. Luckily, Sam wasn’t the only one who looked up at the entrance. Otherwise, they might have noticed when, just for a second, Sam’s hand rested on his hip, like he was reaching for a gun he didn’t have. 

 

A large African American man in a business suit slid into an empty seat in the limousine, the door closing behind him. Though it was harder to tell while he was wearing the suit, the man seemed to be muscled and appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties. The keyword here was “appeared”. 

 

_ Vampire,  _ Sam’s mind supplied. It must have been part of the abilities Crowley had given him, because the word came to him the moment he saw the creature. The man seemed familiar and knowing he was a vampire helped everything settle into place. 

 

It was the alpha vampire, the one Crowley and Samuel had tortured for information. He was allegedly older than mankind, although he didn’t look it at the moment. In face, the “man” had looked far more ancient and terrifying the last time he’d seen him, which was actually a relief now that he was stuck seeing the horrifying true forms of Leviathan and demons. 

“I hope I’m not late.” The vampire said, his voice as calm and refined as ever. 

 

“Not at all, you’re right on time.” Roman surface smiled, sliding his phone into his pocket. 

 

“You said you wanted to make a deal regarding a pet project of yours?” 

 

“Yes. Me and my associates have been formulating a substance to take full advantage of the food source offered to us in humans. I can’t tell you much about it, but it’s an additive to most products consumed by humans. Right now, it is being engineered to keep those who consume it compliant. However, if all goes according to plan, it will eventually be capable of . . . removing those with undesirable qualities.” 

 

Roman’s features never gave away the fact that he was discussing how to use humans. “Naturally, we have made sure that there will be no adverse effects on anything that consumes the humans.” 

 

_ There's something wrong, here.  _ Sam thought, as his eyes darted between both creatures; it was the only sign of his rising internal panic. 

 

“It seems you’ve thought through your entire plan before acting.” The Alpha Vampire complimented. “And what is it, exactly, that you want from me?” 

 

“Nothing.” Roman replied, fluidly. “That is to say, we want you to do nothing. We want you to keep quiet about what we’re doing here. You won’t tell anyone, including your  _ children  _ and you will get your reward.” 

 

The Alpha Vampire’s eyes stared at Dick Roman, as if he was trying to see into a soul that he didn’t have. “That’s all?” He asked, disbelief clear beneath the sophistication. 

 

“For now. Yes, that’s all.” Roman replied, simply. 

 

“And there will be no adverse effects when we drink from humans?” The vampire seemed to be looking for the catch. Smart man. 

 

“Well, it is experimental and we are still perfecting the serum, so there’s likely to be some . . . kinks . . . that will need to be worked out. Should you identify some after we introduce it into the market, we will do our best to fix it.” Yet another surface smile. 

 

Roman held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

 

The Alpha Vampire watched Roman for a moment and then reached out to shake Dick’s hand. “We have a deal.” He agreed. 

 

“Great.” Roman replied, as the alpha vampire made to get out of the limo. “We’ll be in touch.” 

 

“I look forward to it.” The vampire stated as he closed the door and presumably left. 

 

Almost instantly, Roman was back on his phone and the limo driver started up the car without prompting. Maybe the Leviathan possessed more of a hive mind than he’d previously thought.

 

Like-mindedness aside, he’d been feeling like something was wrong with the situation. More than the obvious. Why was Dick Roman working with vampires; they wouldn’t deal with anything they thought of as beneath them and they thought everything was beneath them. 

 

What was the deal with the deal? 

 

And that food additive. To make people placid? He really hoped that Crowley would pursue that lead, so many innocent people could be killed. He needed to find out more about it while he was with the Leviathan, but first, he had to ask . . .

 

“Mr. Roman? Um . . . Dick?” Sam called, turning to the Leviathan and trying to make his eyes and voice as innocent as possible. 

 

“Yes?” He promptly replied, looking up curiously from his phone. 

 

“The vampire you met with earlier-” He stopped short, realizing he’d given away the fact that he could sense the creature was not human and that he knew exactly what kind of inhuman creature it was. 

 

Sam highly doubted he was imagining Roman’s grin widening. “We’ll need to set aside time to see just how extensive your senses are.” Roman uttered the dark promise. “For now, what was it you wanted to ask?” 

 

“That man . . . the deal you made with him . . . are you going to honor it?” 

 

The Head Dick’s soulless eyes belayed his surprise at the question, even as his features portrayed only interest. “Why do you ask?” 

 

Sam’s internal panic kicked in again. Should he risk sounding too smart by explaining his analysis of their motives, risk being seen as secretive by refusing to answer, or harm his usefulness by dumbing down his thinking and seemingly unintellegent? 

 

Which would be the most advantageous? 

 

“I . . .” Sam started. “I just thought that it seemed from your interactions and what you were saying, that you don’t really need him. Your agreement seemed to be made out of convenience for yourself, but it doesn’t really look like he benefits your plans much and you offered him a reward. He’ll be expecting something substantial and I just wonder how much you’re really willing to pay for so little in return . . .” 

 

Sam cut himself off there. He’d said enough. Perhaps too much. His goal is to sound smart, but not too smart. Stanford smart would just be intimidating. 

 

“Is that so?” Roman said, gazing at him like he was a small pile of gold. 

 

It was uncomfortable, to say the least. 

 

When Sam didn’t respond, Roman decided to answer the question posed. “You were right in your observations. I don’t intend to keep the deal we’ve made. Why should I, when I can get what I want without losing anything.” 

 

“But won’t he be angry when he realizes he won’t be getting his reward? Won’t that cause trouble for you?” He had a bad feeling about where this conversation was going, but like a slow motion train wreck, he couldn’t stop it and was morbidly curious. 

 

“It might. That’s why we’re going to take care of the problem before it becomes a liability. Him and all those disgusting bloodsucking bottomfeeders.” 

 

Take care of all vampires before they become a liability? 

 

Why was he surprised that the Leviathans were planning mass genocide? More importantly, how were they planning it? Something told him that he wouldn’t find out from Dick Roman if he asked him now, but Sam would need to find out so Crowley could pass it on to Dean. 

 

Hopefully his brother could interfere before mankind was dragged down with the vampires. 


	12. Dean Enters the Scene!

A lamp smashes right against the wall of the dingy motel room that Dean Winchester currently resided in.  _ Damn Sammy. Damn Leviathans. Damn Crowley!  _ Dean seethed as he looked for something else fragile to add to the large pile of busted glass on the floor. 

 

“I shoulda grabbed some beer.” Dean grumbled to himself, slumping on the bed when he realized there was nothing else breakable in the room. There was nothing else to do, but wait for Crowley to return. 

 

Two days ago was the day his brother went missing. The day had started just as normal as any other lately. He’d had no indication that morning that his entire life would go to shit in the next few hours. Bobby was still figuring out a way to stop the Leviathan in their tracks. 

 

Sam and Dean were squatting at a motel in an innocuous small town until either the heat died down or Bobby found a way to take out their competition for being Winchesters. Personally, Dean preferred the latter. 

 

It had actually been Sam and Bobby who’d thought they should lay low for the time being and it’d taken a lot of convincing an angry Dean before he’d grudgingly agreed that it was probably for the best. He hated the idea on principle, even if it was strategically sound. 

 

It felt too much like they were running away and their father’s conditioning made sure that that offended him, deeply. So, they set up shop in their chosen motel room and tried not to leave it while Bobby investigated, not even for hunting. 

 

Dean quickly began to go stir crazy, but he was still grateful when it was Sammy’s turn to go for groceries. Temporary hermits they may be, but they still have to eat. So, not nearly bundled up enough for the weather outside, Sam had headed out to get their food. 

 

_ Don’t forget the pie! _ , that was the last thing he’d said to Sam before he left and Dean didn’t see his brother again. It was three hours after Sam had headed out that Dean started to worry about the fact that his brother hadn’t yet returned. 

 

Dean didn’t get any sleep that night. He was too busy just waiting for Sam to get back. After 48 hours, waiting gave way to hoping and praying, though Dean would forever deny it. At this point, he would’ve given anything for his Sammy to just walk through the door like nothing happened. Anything. 

 

That’s when Crowley showed up.  _ Of course.  _

 

Bastard that he was, Crowley came in, insulting as he breathed. Not only did he know where Sam was, but he’d apparently engineered his little brother’s kidnapping. The abduction had taken place within a few hours of Sam leaving the motel, but the asshole demon naturally hadn’t seen fit to end Dean’s suffering until that moment, nearly two full days later. 

 

And the kidnapping! The anger Dean felt at Crowley’s appearance was completely outmatched by what he felt when the demon had commenced explaining exactly what’d happened to his brother and Crowley’s own role in it. Bastard handed his brother off to the Leviathans, to Roman. 

 

And why? Well, because of some half-baked spying mission plot like they were in a James Bond movie! 

 

If that weren’t bad enough, the King of Hell thought it appropriate to burden his brother with abilities he didn’t want. Seeing monster’s true forms. Who would want that kind of curse? Dean still shivered whenever he remembered the glimpses he got of demon’s true faces when he was being hunted by a hellhound. 

 

To know that his baby brother had to endure that for far longer than he did and all by himself, while being held hostage by some of those horrid creatures . . . he’d punched Crowley right in the face. Twice. 

 

The demon staggered back and glared at Dean, but the moment passed much too quickly for the hunter to properly enjoy it. Brushing the off punches like the bastard he was, Crowley continued on as if he’d done nothing wrong. The demon described where Sam was and which room he was located in. 

 

Dean Winchester was naturally ready to go in, guns ablazing, to rescue his brother, but Crowley refused to allow him to do it. “Do you really want to waste your brother’s efforts? You’ve finally got an edge on the Leviathan and now you want to throw it away?? 

 

Would you think for a minute, squirrel?!” Crowley bellowed at him, stalling Dean’s angry ranting. “Besides, he’s far safer now than he would be if you go in blazing and blow his cover!” 

 

If there was anything that could break through the famous Winchester stubbornness, it was Sammy’s safety. “Please at least tell me you’re watching him.” Dean groaned. 

 

“Always.” Crowley smirked. “Relax, Squirrel. They won’t hurt him, not with the abilities  _ I _ gave him. He’s a prize for any monster to get ahold of; a human that can see monsters. Think of the possibilities of a gift like that being trained and refined.” 

 

Dean could do nothing but glare at that and Crowley just up and disappeared, leaving Dean with his impotent anger. It was as if he’d said, “fuck it, this conversations over now.” 

 

That brings him to where he is now, frustrated and throwing breakable things at the wall, because he could do nothing to help his baby brother and Crowley wasn’t even there for Dean to take his anger out on him. It was only when Dean was sitting down on the motel bed with his head in his hands, having run out of breakable items and exhausted himself, that Crowley finally decided to return. 

 

“Hello, Squirrel. Is it just me or does this room look even trashier than last I was here?” The demon questioned, nonchalantly peering around the room. 

 

“Shut up. You were gone for awhile, heard anything from Sam?” Dean demanded, standing up. 

 

“As a matter of fact, yes, I have.” Crowley replied. 

 

At hearing this, Dean sat back on the bed and leaned forward, his eyes wide and searching. “Well?” Dean asked when Crowley only smirked. 

 

“What?” The demon replied, calmly. “No ‘please’ or maybe a ‘thank you’ for keeping an eye on your little brother for you?” 

 

“Cut the crap and just tell me what you’ve heard from Sam.” Dean growled. He was about at his wit’s end with this demonic son of a bitch.” 

 

“Well,” Crowley started, looking away from the hunter and beginning to pace the room. “Dick seems to have set him up in a nice room; certainly better than this hovel.”

 

The demon paused. “But a cage is still a cage, I suppose. He’ll be watched, but he’ll still get information that we need . . . I have faith in very few things, but I have faith that you Winchesters will find a way to come out on top, even with the odds stacked against you.” 

 

Dean didn’t know what to say to that. Was it a compliment or an insult? Maybe both? 

 

“In fact, he’s already made good on that faith. He’s gotten me a juicy tidbit of information just by wearing the necklace I gave him.” 

 

‘What’d he find out?” Dean asked eagerly, excited for something he could use. 

 

Crowley was relishing this, he could tell. “Dick struck a deal with the Alpha Vampire and sam was there to witness it. Apparently, they won’t deal with demons, but vampires, who are a rung down . . .” 

 

Irritation was in his voice, clear as day. Dean smirked. 

 

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Dick’s going to betray him, anyway.” He continued fluidly. “What I found interesting was their relationship and the deal they made. What it means for us.” 

 

“For us?” Dean parroted in question. 

 

“The Alpha Vampire think the Leviathans are on his side now. Can’t ask any vampires for help now or their ‘father’ will pass it onto Dick. I wouldn’t assume a similar agreement has been made with other creatures, but don’t assume it’s safe to find help elsewhere. Nope, we’re on our own.” Crowley spoke irritatedly. Dean mulled this over in his head. 

 

Not good. He didn’t like the idea of working with vampires, but he didn’t like the idea of the undead fuckers working with Roman, either. 

 

“Can’t we just tell him that Roman’s planning on betraying him? Shouldn’t we use that?” Dean asked, glancing up at the supernatural pain in the ass. 

 

“He’ll never believe it. Right now, he’ll see no reason to trust us or why Roman would betray him. He’d be allying himself with a weaker faction for no real gain. No, he’ll want to stay on Dick’s good side.”

 

_ Makes sense,  _ Dean thought. What do we do with the information, then?” 

 

“We wait.” Crowley calmly answered. 

 

“We  _ wait? _ ” Dean demanded. “While my brother is being held by monsters and the Leviathans are building their plans? I’m supposed to do nothing?”  _ Absolutely not! No! _

 

“Yes.” Crowley answered as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “We should make proper use of perfectly good information. You’d have us running in half-cocked with no plan! A good fighter makes opportunities, he doesn’t waste them.” Crowley snarled the words, then took a moment to collect himself. 

 

“You are going to stay right here until I have somewhere else for you to go.” He grumped and disappeared. Dean was left in a dingy motel room, lost and confused about what he was going to do. 

 

What could he do? Dean sighed, sadly. He needed a drink. 

 

\-----

 

Crowley had barely stepped foot into hell before being accosted by a demon when . . .

 

“Sir! Sir! There’s a situation we need you to deal with!” The low-level demon possessing a dark skinned middle aged man looked panicked and harried. 

 

_ Typical,  _ Crowley thought as he sneered at the approaching demon.  _ I’m surrounded by idiots that lack the brainpower to solve even the simplest tasks on their own.  _

 

“I just got back to hell and you’re already accosting me!” He burst out angrily when the demon reached him. 

 

Crowley was heading to his favorite part of hell; the throne room. He didn’t bother to stop walking to talk to the demon. He was the King of Hell. If the demon wanted to talk to him, then it would have to keep up with him. 

 

The demon walked beside him, his face making it look like he was dealing with something terrifying. Considering that the demon was dealing with Crowley, that was probably right. 

 

“I’m sorry, Sir. We can’t deal with this on our own-” 

 

“Obviously.” Crowley interrupted, annoyed. 

 

“Yes . . . well . . .” The demon stuttered. 

 

They reached the throne room. 

 

The low-level demon stopped in front of the throne, while Crowley settled onto it. The King of Hell glared down at it, for good measure. “Well?” He demanded when the demon didn’t say anything. “What’s so bad that you couldn’t wait until I sat down to bother me with it?” 

 

His eyes bored into the lesser demon. “Well?” 

 

The demon opened its mouth . . .


	13. Crowley, Not Now!

Sam was downright exhausted by the time the limo took them back to Leviathan Headquarters. The young hunter basically stumbled out of the car and blearily looked at the building. 

 

“Get some sleep.” Roman advised him. “We’ll speak more tomorrow.” With that, the guards ushered Sam back into the building, leaving Roman outside. 

 

Sam didn’t remember most of the trip to the top floor. He thought, at one point, he had fallen asleep on one of the guard's shoulders. If he did, neither said anything about it. Not that they said much of anything, anyway. The closest he got to consciousness was when they passed by Roman’s office and, soon after, the door to Sam’s new room came into view.  _ Finally! Sleep!  _

 

As they stopped in front of the door, one guard put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, keeping him in place, while the other opened the door for him. Sam stumbled forward and the hand dropped from his shoulder. Sam distantly heard the door close and lock behind him, but all he could focus on was the large bed. 

 

Sam walked towards it and was just about to reach the bed when Crowley’s voice stopped him.  _ “Hello, Moose.”  _

 

_ No, no, no!  _ Sam mentally moaned, just stopping himself from objecting out loud and alerting his guards. “Crowley, not now!” 

 

_ “Yes, now!”  _ Crowley replied.  _ Since Dick’s meeting with the Alpha Vampire, I’ve had to deal with an angry squirrel chattering at me and now I need something to raise my mood a bit. Have you gotten the chance to snoop around their headquarters?  _

 

So many things wanted to slip past Sam’s lips at the moment. What Dean did wasn’t his responsibility. He needed some damn sleep and Crowley could screw off until the morning and didn’t he have demonic lackies that he could take his frustration out on? He was the King of Hell, what was he doing turning to Sam to solve all his problems? 

 

Sam considered telling Crowley that, no, he had not yet had the chance to look around. He nearly did, but one realization stopped him from doing so. He really didn’t put it past Crowley to force Sam to go out and explore right that moment and not give Sam any peace until he agreed to it. “I did, actually.” Sam found himself admitting. 

 

_ “Excellent! Moose, please tell me you got something good!” _ The demon crowed. 

 

“Well, I’m not really sure . . .” 

 

_ “Moose!” _

 

“ . . . but I stole some papers from an office. They look like they could be important.” 

 

_ “That’s fantastic. Let me have it!” _ Crowley said, excitedly. 

 

Sam pulled one of the papers out of his pocket. It was a . . . purchase agreement for a secondhand shop. A Mr. Marshall agreed to sell his store to a realestate agent by the name of Joyce Bicklebee. Sam didn’t recognize any of the names on the paper, but he did wonder if the agent was in league with the Leviathans or was one, herself. Why else would the paper even be there?

 

Sam relayed all this information to Crowley, adding in the shop’s address, which was somewhere in Portland. “Do you know what that’s about?” Sam asked him. 

 

_ “No, but I’ll keep you posted. Anything else?” _ Crowley asked. 

 

“Yeah.” Sam said, pulling the contract out of his pocket. The contents of the contract was almost exactly like the purchase agreement, though there were a few differences. The contract stipulated that a different business owner would hand over all power in the business over to the same realtor, but would still technically be the owner, if in name only. 

 

At the bottom of the contract, it stated that the owner could, at any point, choose to officially sell the business and quoted a guaranteed price for it. Sam’s eyes completely bugged out at the price.  _ Holy Crap!  _ Sam had never seen so many zeros in one place in his entire life! What were these Leviathans . . . plutocrats?? They’d have to be if this selling offer was in any way indicative of their normal offers.

 

_ “Moose? Don’t keep me in suspense, I’m chomping at the bit.” _ The dry wit had to be the King of Hell’s default setting, it really had to be. 

 

“You’re not going to believe this.” Sam breathed. Crowley was completely silent after had explained all of what was in the contract. “What do you thinks going on?” Sam asked, uneasily. 

 

_ “I don’t know.” _ The demon answered, honestly.  _ “But I will find out. Keep trying to find more evidence, you’re in Leviathan Central, it has to be there. I might not be able to speak with you tomorrow, so there’s one more thing you need to know before you go to sleep.” _

 

“Why?” Sam’s slurring voice asked. Sam didn’t care that it sounded like he was whining, he’d had a hard day!

 

_ “Because it would be useful to know when you get the chance to do more snooping, now stop your whinging! You don’t see me moping about from lack of sleep.”  _

 

“You don’t sleep.” Sam argued, incredulously. 

 

_ “Not the point.”  _ Crowley dismissed.  _ “Now listen, the sooner I tell you this, the sooner you can get your oh, so important beauty sleep.”  _ The demon paused then and, satisfied when Sam didn’t move to say anything, continued.  _ “Dick has been funding excavations all over the world. The scope of the project is just enormous, he must be looking for something.”  _

 

“Where did you hear this?” Sam asked, slightly more awake at the news; the instincts of a hunter. 

 

_ “An underling of mine just brought it to my attention, I sent a grunt out earlier to gather information and watch the moves of the Leviathan as a whole. Speaking of which, I’ll send a couple demons to Portland. If they’re not completely incompetent, which I’m not convinced they aren’t, they’ll watch the town’s proceedings in secret and report back to me with anything suspicious. So, what do you think?”  _ Crowley asked. 

 

“Sounds good.” Sam yawned lightly, thinking the King of Hell was referring to his plans for figuring out what was going on in Portland. 

 

_ “I meant about the excavations, do you think you could find out what they’re looking for tomorrow?”  _ Crowley clarified, his tone practically radiated  _ I’m surrounded by incompetent morons.  _ Sam was too tired to bristle at that. 

 

“I think I’m too tired to think about it.” Sam replied, before deciding Crowley would only be placated by a serious answer. “I don’t know. It has to be something sneaky and malicious if  _ they’re  _ doing it, so you’re probably right that they’re looking for something. I’ll try and check it out tomorrow.” He hoped this would end the conversation. 

 

_ “Try Dick’s email. You’re stationed close to his office, right? If you can get in there, go for the laptop.”  _

 

Sam wanted to tell Crowley that Roman wanted to see him tomorrow and he wasn’t sure how that would all turn out. 

 

“Okay.” Sam sighed, his eyelids started to droop a little. There was almost nothing keeping the young man awake anymore. 

 

It apparently came through in his voice, because Crowley’s next words were,  _ “But that can wait until tomorrow. Go and get some sleep.”  _

 

Sam didn’t need any more convincing and the young man wordlessly crawled into the bed and slid under the covers. Sam had never experienced a bed this soft and his eyes immediately started drooping closed. 

 

His brain was fuzzy, but right before he went to sleep, Sam thought he heard something. 

 

_ “Goodnight, Moose.”  _

 

\-----------

 

The Leviathan possessing Dick Roman strut into the lobby like he owned the place, because he did. While his human went into the building, he stayed outside and made some calls, informing some of the more important underlings of the developments of that night. He loved giving orders and they were all suitably excited about the prospect of a deal with the vampires to keep the filth from interfering with their plans. 

 

It is especially fortuitous as the blood of the Alpha Vampire could prove detrimental to them, should he decide to work with Sam and Dean Winchester. He should probably contact the Leviathans pretending to be the two humans and ask whether they’d found anything else interesting, another creature-seeing human child, perhaps? 

 

Thinking of the little human caused a deadly smirk to twist his features. It had been a complete surprise to hear from Leviathan Dean and Sam. He’d been annoyed, at first. “You better not be wasting my time.” He’d said. They weren’t.

 

A child. A human child that could miraculously see their true forms and apparently, the appearances of vampires. At the very least, he could identify them at a glance. How marvelous! The child didn’t seem to know much about his abilities or what he and his associates even were. 

 

Maybe all the boy could do was see creatures for what they were and if that was the case, well, the child had already proved himself to be more useful than the rest of the cattle that made up mankind. However, there was a chance that he could do more than that if properly trained. There could perhaps be more powers that he was as yet unaware of possessing. 

 

Being a human, he was more fragile than his Leviathan, but wouldn’t be hurt by borax; a soldier that would succeed where they failed and would either go to Heaven or Hell when he died, rather than Purgatory, as they would. 

 

This would likely make Cole easier to retrieve if he were killed by their enemies, once they’d subjugated both angels and demons. And they would. Until they had the means to retrieve the human’s soul in the event of his death, Cole must be protected at all costs; they could not lose him. 

 

He couldn’t be sure of the exact manner that he would use the boy until he knew the parameters and limitations of Cole’s abilities. He would start testing Cole tomorrow to see just what the little human could do. Before that, he had plenty of time to prepare and more work to do, calls to make. His excavations were underway and he needed results. 


	14. The Test

Sam woke slowly that morning. He almost expected to hear his brother bustling about the room, probably singing. 

 

He heard nothing, though; eerie silence the only thing to greet him. Prying his eyes open, he took in the features of the unfamiliar room. It was as he carefully slipped out of the large bed that Sam remembered where he was and why he was here. 

 

He fought a weary sigh as he padded over to the bathroom. His mind was fuzzy and his mouth tasted dry and foul, reminding him that he hadn’t had the opportunity to brush his teeth since he’d left Dean. Licking his teeth in a vain attempt to get rid of the musty feeling in his mouth, he reached for the bathroom door handle and the door swung open. 

 

He hadn’t looked too hard at what was in the room when he’d told Crowley about it and the young man was greatly to see toothpaste and a toothbrush, along with other toiletries. The hunter wasted no time in lathering his teeth in the paste, relishing in the clean feeling and minty taste it provided. As soon as he finished that task, he became aware of another need, thankfully noticing toilet paper and soap in the room. 

 

Sam meandered out of the room and with a small bit of hesitation, went over to the door leading out into the hallway and tried the doorknob. As expected, it was locked. Not feeling like engaging with the Leviathan at the moment, Sam grabbed the book he’d been reading earlier and spread out on the bed to get whatever peace he could before Dick came for him. 

 

He’d done his reading and relaxing for maybe two hours, no disturbances from Crowley or anything else, before a knock came at the door. The knock must have been a mere formality, because not even a second passed before the door was unlocked and opened. One of the guards from last night stood in the doorway, features serious and expressionless. 

 

“Mr. Roman would appreciate your presence in his office.” 

 

Sam spared a second to consider how very often the Leviathans seemed to phrase commands as requests, like it was their favorite way of speaking. 

 

“Okay.” Sam said, knowing that resistance was futile. Besides, it got him in Roman’s office. The book was put down and Sam slid off the bed. The Leviathan held the door open and moved off to the side as Sam exited. 

 

As Sam began to head down the hallway, he was aware of a presence following him at a sedate pace. “I can get there on my own.” Sam stated in an annoyed manner, neither turning around nor stopping his stride. 

 

“My orders are to escort you to Mr. Roman’s office and make sure that nothing happens to you along the way.”

 

Sam bit back a scoff. What was going to happen to him walking down a hallway? It was clear they just didn’t want to run the risk of him running off. Roman’s office came into view and thinking about it for a moment, Sam stopped in front of the door so that his shadow could open the door for him, which it did. 

 

Like the creep he was, Roman sat in his office chair, behind his desk, with his hands folded in front of him. Creepy. “Cole, welcome. You may leave now.” He nodded towards the other Leviathan, who nodded and left. 

 

The door was closed and before him was the leader of the Leviathans. Sam’s body stiffened. 

 

“Come. Have a seat.” Roman gave a sharp-toothed smile, his other face looming ominously beneath his human one. “Do you know why you’re here?” The politician asked. 

 

_ Because you’re absolutely sick monsters?  _ “I don’t know.” Sam whispered, casting his gaze towards his hands, so Roman wouldn’t see the fire in his eyes. His inner hunter inflamed, he almost missed Roman’s next words. 

 

“There is something special about you, something that sets you apart from other humans. Hard to believe you even are human. Do you know what that is?” 

 

_ How do I get him to leave the office so that I can get on his computer? Is it password protected?  _ “My winning personality?” Sam winced when the words passed his lips without him meaning for them to, that line didn’t match with his persona. Crowley’s words about not coming off as a threat ran through his head.

 

Luckily, Roman took it with good humor or at least pretended to. “No, not that.” He said with a chuckle before his tone turned darker again. “You can see the true faces of non-human creatures. To my knowledge, no other human can do or has ever done what you do.” 

 

“Well, what do you want from me?” Sam tried not to sound as confrontational as he felt. 

 

“If you can do that . . .” Roman started, that smile of his stretching ominously. “Think about what you could grow to do someday.” His voice held a sort of promise, like he was almost daring Sam not to be great one day. 

 

“I’d like you to do something for me.” He spun his chair around to grab at something from a table behind him and spun back around to face Sam. In his hands was a wooden box with a bunch of runes carved all over the exterior. Sam recognized some as protective and locking charms. He didn’t recognize the others, but he thought one might have been some kind of tracking mechanism. 

 

Calmly placing a hand on the lid, Roman opened the box. Sam didn’t really know what he’d expected to see, but it wasn’t a single feather sitting on the bottom of the box. 

 

It was a pitch black feather, like from a raven. After looking at it for a few seconds, Sam looked up into Roman’s horrid face. “What is that for?” 

 

“A test, of sorts.” Roman cheerfully supplied. “Just take it out of the box.” He gave no further instruction. 

 

There was an awkward moment where Sam hesitated to follow the order and the both of them just stared at each other, as if daring the other to cave in. Finally, Sam decided to bite the bullet and reached into the box in Roman’s hands to get the feather. He half expected the Leviathan to snap the box shut on his hand, like he’d seen done in movies, but no. 

 

His hand brushed against the soft yet stiff feather and left with it without interference. “Is that it?” Sam asked, holding up the feather delicately between his two fingers. 

 

“Yes, that’s quite it.” Roman smiled, eyes alight with wicked glee. “That is an angel’s feather.” Roman stated, watching for a reaction. 

 

“What?” Sam coughed out, dropping the feather onto the desk and staring at it like it was a viper. 

 

“Yep. Not many can touch it, too. A feather is part of an angel’s true form, their wings have trouble manifesting on this plane of existence and even supernatural creatures normally can’t touch an angel’s true form, only their vessel. 

 

I can, because I’m the strongest of a species older than the angels. Humans get their eyes burned out just beholding an angel’s true form, never mind touching it. This is a great talent that can be trained and refined into even more, I knew you were special.” 

 

This was too much, this was all too much. Sam’s head felt dizzy and he felt himself placing his hands on the desk to feel more stable. This wasn’t what they’d planned, did Crowley know about this? How was he able to touch an angel’s feather? Did this mean he could potentially make contact with an angel’s true form, even see it? 

 

He was slowly getting so panicked that he was surprised he didn’t stop breathing in the midst of it. Just as the boy was telling himself to pull it together, a loud yell went up through the building and the sound of a fight sounded far outside the doors. 

 

Roman looked up with a look of pure irritation on his face. “Stay here. Don’t leave.” He ordered, his feet stomping out the door, closing and locking it behind him. 

 

_ Alone at last _ , Sam thought, although he was curious about what was happening in the rest of the building. He got up and opened the laptop on the edge of the desk, leaning over it as it turned on. 

 

By some amazing chance, it wasn’t password protected and Sam was able to log on with relative ease. There was a message up on the screen. Sam scanned it with his eyes. It was a progress report on an excavation located in Iraq. The message didn’t say what they were looking for, only that they were close to finding  _ it _ . 

 

What  _ it  _ was, he didn’t know. 

 

He minimized the message and started looking through emails. Most of them were about business ventures, interviews, and other things that didn’t raise any red flags. Maybe one minute in, one caught his eye. Opening up the email, he saw that it was a reply to an email that Roman had sent out. It was from someone named . . . Edgar. 

 

Sam shook himself before he wasted time pondering that and filed the name away for later. The reply, itself, was not interesting. No, it was the email that it was responding to that was interesting. It was an order to continue looking for the  _ Leviathan Tablet,  _

 

What was that? The email didn’t say anything more about it, probably because the person the email was to knew exactly what it was. Before he could continue searching, a loud bang sent him jumping out of the chair. Another loud bang, accompanied by the door shoving forward a little bit.

 

Someone was trying to break down the door. 

 

Sam stood with his gaze transfixed on the door, shocked, until another shove to the door sent him running back to the laptop. Sam desperately covered his tracks, closing the email he’d been reading and opening up the original one, before carefully closing it. He then scrambled out from behind the desk and pressed himself against the back wall. 

 

At this moment more than any other, Sam felt the absence of his weapons. He was defenseless in this small body. With one more great bash against what had to be reinforced wood, the door blasted off its hinges and blew into the room, landing just short of the desk. A being stood in the doorway with its powerful leg raised, then lowered it and entered the room. 

 

Two more flanked it and the eyes of all three zeroed in on Sam, their eyes as cold and empty as the tundra, but a clear, luminescent silver. Behind them, wings stretched out from their backs. The wings arched up in a battle stance. 

 

Angels. 


	15. When Angels Attack

The angels were looking at him like he was both the most amazing and the most disgusting thing they had ever seen. The latter wasn’t an unusual occurrence with angels, but the former actually gave him more unease. 

 

Sam would have edged away from the malicious beings, but he was already pushed against the back wall and they were standing between him and the doorway. “Who are you?” Sam’s voice came out small and frightened, all he could hope was that he could talk them down. It was his only option. 

 

“We are angels. I am Thaddeus.” The head angel spoke calmly and coldly, like he was repeating a rehearsed line. He stepped uncomfortably closer to Sam’s small form. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, in an attempt to keep it at bay. 

 

“As warriors, we are here to eliminate a threat to Heaven.” Thaddeus spoke, the two angels behind him equally ready to fight but remaining silent, letting their leader do the talking. “Recently, our numbers have been . . .  _ depleted  _ through multiple costly wars. We cannot afford to lose any more of our numbers.” He stated furiously. 

 

“I-I don’t . . .” Sam shook his head confusedly, having no idea what this had to do with him. 

 

“Leviathans having a weapon that can kill angels is an unacceptable risk, we must eliminate it.” 

 

The dark malice in his eyes as he looked at Sam made it clear that they knew about him. “How?” He whimpered out. 

 

“We interrogated a low-level Leviathan we managed to capture. The information they provided us with was very valuable. Now, enough talk.” 

 

The creatures aggressively came towards him. Sam’s fight or flight reflexes kicked in and, being unable to fight, Sam dove under the desk. He needed to buy some time for someone to realize what was going on in here. Before this, Sam never would have thought that he’d be praying for the Leviathan to come get him, but that was exactly what he’d been reduced to. 

 

A hand reached under the desk and grabbed at him. He kicked wildly at it with his foot, but the hand just grabbed his leg and yanked the boy out from under the desk. Sam’s head hit the bottom of the desk chair as he was manhandled out of the room, causing Sam’s vision to swim and a piercing headache. 

 

Sam’s head lolled to the side uncontrollably, he couldn’t even look up at his attacker. His arms were seized by two different sets of hands. Sam was pulled up onto his feet with both his hands being restrained on either side of him. Distantly, he thought that it was a good thing they were holding him, because after the knock to his head, he didn’t think he could stand up under his own power. 

 

Thaddeus stood before Sam as he cohorts held the young man and raised his angel blade. Sam expected to feel the blade digging into his chest or even his heart, creatively cursing Crowley for getting him into this mess. Damn demon better find a way to bring him back after this. 

 

A man chose that moment to get in on the scene. Rather, a Leviathan riding a man. “Hey!” He/It shouted, immediately attacking Thaddeus. 

 

The Angel and Leviathan were suddenly engaged in a duel, two beings older than the entire rest of creation going at each other. Professional adults dream of this kind of battle the same way children dream of seeing giant robots fighting Tyrannosaurs. 

 

Maybe it would have been more epic if it wasn’t in an office setting. 

 

As it was, the two ancient beings ended up shoving the desk all the way over to the other side of the room in their fervor to get at each other. At first, the angel was able to keep the Leviathan at a distance while viciously slashing at him with its angel blade, but everything went downhill for the winged dick when, in the span of a single second, the Leviathan found an opening and was able to get into very close proximity of the angel. 

 

What followed was quite possibly the most horrifying thing Sam had ever seen in his entire life. The Leviathan  _ thrust  _ his hand into the angel’s chest like it was made out of crepe paper. A black, viscous goo bled out of the angel’s chest and caked the Leviathan’s fist. 

 

Sam unconsciously moved to take a step back, but was met with a too-strong resistance, reminding him that he was still being held captive by two angels who were staring at the scene in front of them, completely in shock. The angel that had a hand in its stomach looked to be in shock, too, as well as horrified. The angel shakily looked into the nonchalant face of its killer before collapsing to the ground. 

 

The man looked disinterestedly at the fallen angel before turning to the angels that held Sam by the arms. Simultaneously, the winged dicks (who Sam was suddenly starting to feel very bad for) released their hold on him and jumped back. 

 

Nervously but with the resilience of warriors, both drew their blades and got into battle stances. “Shame on you.” The Leviathan crooned, taking slow and methodical steps towards them.  “Ganging up and picking on a child? Have you no shame?” He playfully admonished. Sam was incredibly relieved that the creature’s attention wasn’t on him. 

 

Maybe his helplessness in this situation was worming its way into his head, because Sam ran the short distance to the dark and crawled back under it. Ashamed of his childish and cowardly reaction, despite the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it, Sam pulled up his legs up to his chest and buried his face in them. 

 

He heard the sound of a scuffle and some screaming, ostensibly from one of the angels, but he didn’t come out. He stayed under the desk with his face pressed into his legs until he was startled back to himself by the sound of a throat clearing uncomfortably close to Sam. 

 

Eyes popping open in alarm, clear blue eyes met the dark eyes of the Leviathan who . . . saved him? It didn’t quite feel like that, more like he just traded “owners”. “How are you feeling, Kid?” The Leviathan asked, casually. 

 

This one seemed partial to joking language, but both his facial features and voice lacked any and all emotion. Sam couldn’t find it in himself to answer, the circumstances of the day’s events getting to him, and instead just opened and closed his mouth a few times like an especially dumb fish. 

 

Apparently not the patient type, which did not bode well for Sam, the Leviathan reached under the desk and pulled Sam out from under it. Even after being pulled up and into a standing position, the Leviathan kept its hold on his arm. “The boss will need to be told about this, he won’t be happy.” 

 

The manner in which he said it made Sam unsure whether the creature was talking more to him or itself. “And who are you?” Even to himself, Sam’s voice sounded tired. 

 

“I go by Edgar.” The creature answered, causing Sam’s breath to catch. 

 

\-----------------

 

They were discussing recent events. They were talking about him. Of this, Sam was certain. After the incident with the angels, Edgar had taken him to Dick Roman, who politely ordered him to go back and stay in his room. Roman seemed busy and distracted, one of the things that indicated to Sam that he wasn’t the only one that’d been attacked by the angels. 

 

Then again, there was also the mess the lobby had been made into, with broken and toppled furniture. Sam somehow felt like if he had gotten there five minutes earlier, he would have been greeted by a pile of angelic corpses. 

 

The mysterious Edgar had not left Sam’s side since saving him and was the one to take Sam back to his room when Roman ordered it. Sam begrudgingly went with him, knowing that the only thing he could possibly achieve by pitching a fit would be making things harder on himself. There was less risk in trying to maintain Edgar’s attention. 

 

When Sam was brought to his room and settled on his bed, Edgar made to leave but stopped, saving Sam from having to think of something to get him to stay longer. “Is there anything you need, while I’m here?” Sam was at a loss of how to answer that until his mind settled on the emptiness of his stomach. 

 

He’d been bought food on the trip to Leviathan Headquarters, but hadn’t really eaten anything in the over 24 hours since. The adrenaline and worry of the rest of the day were slowly ebbing, leaving the aching emptiness of his stomach to take over. 

 

“I’m really hungry, could I have some food?” He asked in a hopeful voice with his eyes wide, recalling a similar scene that used to play out between him and Dean when they were kids. 

 

_ Dean.  _ He missed Dean. 

 

“Of course.” Edgar agreed, amiably. “I will have something sent up for you. Any preferences?” Sam shook his head. “Then it will be up momentarily. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the Boss and I need to have a meeting.” 

 

He then left the room, the sound of a door closing and locking was becoming absurdly familiar. All that brought him to the situation he was now in, locked in his room and knowing they were talking about him in Roman’s office. 

 

It was frustrating for him and it was all Sam could do not to come off as a total brat by kicking at the door. Sam started pacing the room when his energy got to be too much for him. He finally decided to distract himself by mentally going through everything he’d learned that day. A lot happened, he needed to organize his mind. 

 

He could touch angel feathers, possibly alluding to an ability to make contact with their true forms. Angels didn’t like that, ironically swooping in like bats outta hell to take him out. Add in the fact that they learned about him from capturing and interrogating a low-level Leviathan. Wasn’t that what the angel, Thaddeus, said? Man, if he thought being here with the Leviathans wasn’t safe before . . .

 

He hadn’t seen the angel’s true forms, he didn’t think so anyway. However, he did see their wings, which was something. Would he be able to see their true forms later if he practiced? If he did, would it still burn his eyes out like any other human who was forced to look at them? A harsh shiver went down his spine at the thought.

 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it just to assuage his curiosity about what they looked like. 


	16. Can't Stay Here

A knock came at the door and Sam basically tripped over himself getting to the door. Worried as he was, he was still hungry. Just as he got to it, the door was opening, showing one of the Leviathans with a takeout container in his hands. Seeing Sam, it held the container out like an offering. 

 

Too far gone with worry and hunger by this time, Sam didn’t worry about coming off as rude. He grabbed the takeout container from the creature’s hands, not even looking at it beyond a general sweep of its face, and then closed the door without saying a word. 

 

There was a hesitation on the other side of the door before there was the sound of footsteps walking away. Sam rushed to the desk and moved the stack of books for more room. The container was placed on the dark wood and opened. Sam almost wanted to laugh at what was inside; a burger and fries. 

 

He wasn’t sure why exactly he found it funny. Maybe it was because they probably got this for him because of the trope of all Americans being crazy for burgers. It could have been that Sam had never gone a week without seeing this particular meals ever since their family had become hunters, barring that short stretch of time when he’d gone to Stanford. 

 

Probably, he was just cracking up after all the stress. Regardless, Sam let out a small, little chuckle as he dug into his meal. 

 

The burger tasted amazing. Whether that was because the burger was really good or he was really hungry was up for debate. After he got about halfway through his meal, Sam finally had the mental faculties to stop and think for a moment. It was then that he realized something he’d completely overlooked before. 

 

The oh, so familiar sound of a door closing and locking had been noticeably absent when the last Leviathan left after delivering his meal. The door closing, all right, but he couldn’t remember hearing the lock click. Sam shot up from the desk in a frenzy, just catching the chair before it hit the ground and righting it. 

 

Slowly, like he thought moving quickly would jinx it, Sam approached the door and carefully reached for the handle. The door swung open without a single protest and Sam was unsure of what to do as he stared out the empty hallway. What should he do? Sam knew that with the attack earlier, he was unlikely to be left alone for long without someone checking in on him. 

 

If that was the case and he was caught outside the room, then that would be the worst mistake he could make. Not only would they be more careful to keep him locked away in the future, but he would also gain a reputation as a snoop and they’d be more wary of him in general. 

 

Yet, he knew that he had to do something to take advantage of this lucky break. It didn’t have to be something huge. For now, safety was a priority. What it did have to be was something that left him better off than he’d been before. Knowing that just thinking too much about it was a waste of time, Sam crept out of the room. His eyes swaying this way and that, looking for one of the predators that kept him held here. No one was around and Sam took extra special care when he went by Roman’s office. 

 

Sam really didn’t know what he was doing. He knew there weren’t any other rooms on the floor besides his room and Roman’s office and he couldn’t go there. He considered braving the elevator and going to the floor below, but even if there wasn’t anyone in the elevator, there most certainly would be any other floor of a  _ business building.  _

 

Sam was panicking. He was going to crash and burn and there was nothing he could do. Then he saw something small on the carpet. A bent paperclip. Scrambling towards it, Sam picked it up and inspected it. This tiny thing could be the thing that made leaving him worth it. He’d used a lot of odds and ends to pick locks over the years and paper clips were one of them. 

 

He could probably pick door knobs best with it, but who knows? He might be able to open other kinds of locks with it, if he tried. Feeling just relieved and accomplished enough to go back to the room, Sam retraced his steps. Once he got back in, he realized that he was getting hungry again. 

 

Not surprising, given how long he’d gone while eating comparatively little. So he tucked back into the food, just as voraciously as before. He had just finished scarfing the food when the door opened again. 

 

“Your presence is requested in Mr. Roman’s office.” The woman - Leviathan - said, poking her head in through the doorway. 

 

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Sam asked, already knowing the answer. 

 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what’s awaiting you there.” She said, doing a good job of actually sounding sorry. “It’s above my paygrade.” 

 

So, Sam was once again led down the hallway from his room to Roman’s office. Honestly, he was wearing a hole in the carpet. The Leviathan knocked awkwardly on the office door, like she wasn’t sure what to do once she got him to the door. Would they kill her for having the audacity to knock? 

 

“Come in!” Edgar’s voice came from inside the office. Hesitatingly, the Leviathan opened the door and ushered Sam inside. 

 

Looking between the Leviathan behind him and the two in front of him, he noticed that there was at least one similarity between the angels and the Leviathans, they all wore suits. Of all the Leviathans he’d met, Edgar was the only one who wasn’t wearing a suit. 

 

He wasn’t really counting the Leviathans that captured him, since they kind of had to wear plaid in order to pretend to be Sam and Dean.

 

“You may leave.” Edgar dismissed the nameless Leviathan and Sam was then left alone with them. 

 

“Cole. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” Roman said, in what Sam was going to have to call his  _ political voice.  _ It was  _ completely  _ insincere. “So you met Edgar.” 

 

“He disemboweled angels for me.” Sam gave the deadpan response. 

 

Edgar gave a sharp smirk, while Dick chuckled. “Indeed. We’ve actually been discussing that. The attack of the angels occurred, because they somehow became aware of your existence and viewed it as a threat.” 

 

“They said they’d captured one of your people and that’s how they found out about me.” Sam found himself saying. Well, he may have just sold out a tortured Leviathan, but he couldn’t quite make himself feel bad for a demon-eating, earth-conquering monster. 

 

Besides, he very much wanted not to get chest stabbed by those winged dicks and if this and if this put the fear of . . . ahem - God into the remaining Leviathans who knew of him and his abilities, then so be it. 

 

“Is that so?” Roman stiffly asked, both Leviathan’s eyes dangerously narrowing. 

 

Sam merely nodded in answer. 

 

“Well.” Roman breathed out, a steel to it practically saying  _ someone’s going to die today _ . Sam dutifully ignored it. “It seems I have another thing to take care of. First, though, is deciding where you will stay.”  _ That  _ got a reaction. 

 

“Where I will stay?” Sam repeated, dumbly. 

 

“Of course. Keeping you here is inadvisable after the incident with the angels. I think you understand after what happened that angels are not here to be your friends?” Sam held back a scoff at the obviousness of that statement. He nodded in a reluctant manner, like he’d just found that out. 

 

Seemingly pleased with it, Roman gave his smile and continued. “I thought it would be safe for you here, since there are so many of us to keep an eye on you.” The fact that he said  _ keep an eye on  _ instead of  _ protect  _ was not lost on Sam. 

 

“However, I didn’t predict the disloyalty of my people. Since this is where most of our business is conducted and is therefore generally very busy, we can’t fortify it to the extent that angels require.”

 

“But didn’t you kill them?” Sam asked. 

 

“We did.” Edgar agreed. “Fifteen attacked at once, causing a disturbance on the lower and middle floors, while three located you. All were disposed of, but you were almost killed in the chaos.” 

 

The Leviathan impressed the importance of what almost happened on the child before him. “We can easily terminate any angel that answers, but we don’t know how many angels know of your existence and your abilities. It’s possible that they all do and, being a persistent bunch, the attacks could very well keep coming. They’re like locus, in that way.” Edgar explained. 

 

“Normally, we wouldn’t be concerned about this. We are stronger, older and outnumber them, so safety is not an issue for us. For you, however, the situation would be more dire.” Roman spoke. It would have been like watching twins speaking with how they so flawlessly continued each other’s sentiments, if it wasn’t for the subtle deference Edgar continually showed Roman. 

 

“All it would take is one distraction, one moment of inattentiveness, and they could end your life before we could interfere. They still wouldn’t get out of the situation alive, of course, but the damage would be done.” The visual was clearly meant to scare Sam and although he wasn’t the child they all thought him to be, it still did a good job of it. 

 

“So I have to stay somewhere else, then?” 

 

Roman nodded, “It’s the only safe option. Having a few of us solely devoted to watching you will have the duel purpose of keeping your new location a secret and allowing you to never be left alone long enough to provide the angels with the opportunity to end your life. Now, we have a safe house already chosen for you.” 

 

Hide location? Never be left alone?  _ Safe House? No, no, no, no, no!  _ “You’re locking me away in a safe house? No, you can’t do that!” Sam half-yelled, losing his composure. 

 

“We can and we already have.” Edgar soothing replied, unperturbed by his reaction. The smile he flashed Sam was anything but soothing. “It’s for your own safety.”


	17. Cabin in the Woods

Sam was once again locked in a car with a Leviathan. This was actually a strong theme in his life over the last week. This time, he was locked in with perhaps the most frightening Leviathan yet, the one named Edgar. 

 

Sam honestly thought he knew what uncomfortable felt like when he was riding with the two Leviathans trying to imitate him and his brother and then when he was held captive by their leader. He knew nothing. This, this right here, was uncomfortable. 

 

Even without the obvious air of intimidation around Edgar, Sam had still seen this particular Leviathan take out three angels on his own, which was more than Sam could say for the others of his kind. The scene really was incredibly disturbing . . . 

 

Anyways, the very next day after Sam was told about their plans to move him, Edgar came to his room and shepherded him to the car. Sam had had just enough presence of mind to grab the next installment of A Series of Unfortunate Events before leaving the room and everything inside it, Crowley’s bracelet resting snugly on his wrist. 

 

The car that waited for them outside was far from the luxurious limousine Sam had taken with Roman to that meeting. It looked like an old, used car that one might just get for a couple thousand dollars. It didn’t look so old that Sam was worried it might not run, but it had definitely seen better days. 

 

Instead of getting in the backseat, as he had with every other time he’d chosen (read: been forced) to ride with Leviathans, Sam sat shotgun when Edgar went to the passenger’s side first and opened the door for him. Edgar then took his own seat while Sam was buckling up. 

 

As if he knew what Sam was thinking about the car, Edgar spoke. “Wish it was better, but we need to fly under the angel’s radar until we get to the cabin.” 

 

So it’s more of a cabin than a safehouse. Logical, if the intent is to fly under the radar. “There will be a few more of us waiting at the cabin. They’ll have started the warding, if not finished, before we get there.” 

 

Warding was such an unquestionably important part of Sam’s life that he was nodding to the creature’s words before he remembered that he shouldn’t have a clue about warding. Hoping to make up for the blunder, Sam hurried to ask, “What’s ‘warding’?” 

 

Edgar had already started the car and shifted it into gear. Cutting a look towards Sam, Edgar answered as he pulled out onto the street. “Warding is what you do to keep certain things out. For our purposes, we are going to be warding mainly against demons and angels.”   
  


“Demons are real?” Sam asked, keeping the facade going. 

 

This time, Edgar looked at him with a little bit of suspicion. “You don’t know? I was told you’ve reported seeing men with two faces.” 

 

_ Shit! Shit! Backtrack!  _ “Oh, is that what they were?” Sam asked, internal panic making his voice sound higher than normal.  _ Smooth. _

 

“Most likely.” Edgar moved on easily enough, though. Sam wasn’t able to think of anything else to say and so the two lapsed into, what was for Sam, an awkward silence. 

 

_ Pump him for information!  _ A Crowley-like voice in Sam’s head urged him. It sounded so much like Crowley, in fact, that Sam needed to take a minute to assure himself that it was his own inner voice and not actually Crowley calling him again. 

 

“I haven’t seen you here before yesterday. You seem close to Ro-Dick.” Sam started.

 

“His right hand man.” Edgar answered, casually. “I wouldn’t say we’re close. He’s the boss and I get the job done.” 

 

“Is there a reason you weren’t at the office before yesterday?” 

 

“Like I said, I get the job done and I had something important to finish up with. I’m sure I’ll get another task soon enough, but for now, my assignment is you.” Sam decided that that wasn’t intended to be any more comforting than it was. 

 

Instinctively knowing that Edgar wasn’t going to tell him what in particular had kept him out in the field, Sam reclined back in his seat and enjoy the comfort while he had it. He knew it could be ripped away in an instant. 

 

\-------------

 

What ensued was one of the longest drives of Sam’s life and that was saying a lot, considering how much driving he’d endured during his family’s cross-country trips. They barely stopped, except for Sam to eat something and go to the bathroom, usually Edgar insisted he do both in the same trip and he was careful about keeping an eye on Sam. 

 

Edgar was very natural about it. If Sam were the naive sort or merely one of the bystanders at the establishments they stopped at, he would’ve thought nothing of it. Edgar had a way of watching him and letting Sam know he was being watched without hovering. 

 

The drive only took a little more than two days from start to finish, but Sam was used to stopping to sleep in motel rooms and eat and generally split the driving time in a humane way. Normally, he and Dean would only drive straight to a place in truly worrying circumstances and they were for comparatively short distances. 

 

It was unheard of for them to drive for two days with barely a stop for any reason. It made Sam like nothing less than a dog in a cage. Edgar was fine, though. He didn’t have to eat or sleep or go to the bathroom and apparently he didn’t get claustrophobic, either. So, while Sam was desperately trying to keep himself together after one full day in the car, Edgar remained his cooly intimidating self. 

 

His panic wasn’t eased by the path they started taking late into the second day of driving. No more were there toll roads and other cars every few minutes. Instead, they took a much more scenic route, taking smaller and smaller roads until they were entirely offroad. Finally, Edgar stopped the car somewhere in the woods, on a spot where it looked like cars had driven previously. 

 

Edgar opened his side door and slid out. Sam popped open his own door and was so relieved to finally be done with the ride, that he pulled a Dean and crumpled to the forest floor with all the dramatics that Dean usually employed. Edgar watched him, dispassionately, until Sam unrepentantly hauled himself up from the ground. 

 

Edgar went to the trunk, grabbed a duffle bag out of it and slung it over his shoulder. The two then trekked through the forest for about half an hour before finally arriving at a small clearing. “Where are we?” Sam asked. Honestly, he didn’t even know what state they were in, anymore. 

 

“I’m afraid that’s privileged information, but I can say that we’re on private property. There’s a rangers station a couple miles out, but we shouldn’t be bothered here.” Edgar continued to look ahead as he walked, never glancing at Sam. 

 

_ Why would he tell me that?  _ Sam wondered. After all, if your goal is to keep someone kidnapped, why would one tell them that there are people nearby whose job it is to help them? 

 

Showing his true level of competence, Edgar seemed to know what he was thinking. “I wouldn’t bother trying, if I were you. You wouldn’t make it off the property.” That was a dangerous promise that scared even this seasoned hunter. He would if he had to, but Sam wasn’t particularly excited to test this person. 

 

And then it was there. Settled at the back of the clearing, trees holding their branches out over the structure and casting it in shadow, was the cabin. It looked well put together for something that Sam had thought would be rarely used, making him wonder if the previous owner of the cabin had recently been killed or possessed by a Leviathan. 

 

“Come on.” Edgar noticed Sam had stopped walking and put a hand on the smaller’s back to urge him forward. To urge him towards the cabin in the woods. 


	18. The One with Blue Hair

As Sam headed towards the unassuming cabin, he could only just make his feet tread closer and closer to the door. He didn’t know why, couldn’t begin to understand really, but he began to feel increasingly apprehensive about going inside the cabin. He hadn’t felt nearly so frightened when entering Leviathan Headquarters.

 

Maybe that’s because going into the office building, he was just as captive as he was here, but he felt less isolated. The only thing that got him to move his body forward was the knowledge that if he didn’t move on his own, Edgar would have absolutely no trouble moving him. The firm hand still on his back was no small reminder of this. 

 

Suddenly, Sam felt the bracelet on his wrist warming slightly. He could almost believe he imagined it, the change was so small. Yet, there was something in the young man that urged him to believe the change had happened.  _ Maybe Crowley is trying to comfort me.  _ Sam thought. 

 

He felt it was unlikely, but it was a nice thought, nonetheless. It gave Sam the strength he needed to straighten his back and stride more quickly towards the cabin door. If Edgar noticed his change in demeanor, he didn’t show it and as they drew up to the door, Edgar took up in front of Sam so he could put his hand on the handle and open the door for the human. 

 

Only when the door swung open and Sam let out a relieved breath at the interior did he realize he had been unconsciously expecting something like a slaughterhouse on the inside. The fact that the inside looked just as small and comfy as any cabin would, down to the furnishings was both unexpected and strangely reassuring. 

 

Three men, who Sam had no reasonable choice but to assume they were Leviathan, were reclining on the inside and basically relaxing. Two were leaned back on the couch, one looking very human with his head hanging off the back of the couch and his arms splayed out on the back of the couch on either side of his head. The third Leviathan sat on one of the chairs with one leg crossed over the other. 

 

Overall, they looked pretty relaxed and very natural. That is, until Edgar shattered the atmosphere by barking out, “And what do you all think you’re doing?” 

 

His loud voice startled the three and they clumsily jumped to attention. They were dressed in unobtrusive clothing that would see them blend into the crowd. Not only that, but none of them had nearly the kind of presence that Edgar did. It had nothing to do with the faces they wore or their clothing; Edgar, after all, was wearing a plaid shirt and that together with his facial features made him seem like someone who could be found working in an auto shop. 

 

It made Sam think that the other Leviathans were drones; followers. Leviathans were all dangerous, no matter how lowly compared to others of their kind they were, but one like Edgar had a cunning and a power that was downright palpable. His mere presence demanded subservience, as evidenced by the way the three lower Leviathans basically tripped over themselves standing to attention. 

 

“S-Sir!” The first acknowledged. This one, strangely enough, had red hair. It was definitely red and would probably look more like it under the sun, but it appeared like one of his parents had red hair and one had brown when they produced him. 

 

“Sir.” Edgar mockingly parroted, dark eyes staring at them and a slight smirk tugged at his lips. 

 

“We were just relaxing.” The bright blonde next to the redhead said, only to be panickingly interrupted by the youngest of the three, with slightly spiky, iridescent blue hair. 

 

This one looked to be in his early twenties, which Sam felt a twinge thinking about, and the other two each looked to be a decade older than him. Yet, Spiky quickly showed himself to be the most intelligent of the bunch with the most healthy survival instinct. 

 

“We’ve just finished getting the wards up!” He hurriedly replied, trying to cover up his companion’s blunders. “We didn’t want to mess around, so we sat and waited for you to arrive.” He excused. 

 

“How about doing a perimeter check?” Edgar demanded. 

 

“Already done.” Spiky answered, but then his eyes widened in downright fright and he seemed to backtrack. “B-But we can do it again! Right now if you want, Sir!” And the other two nodded along with the sentiment. 

 

“Two of you go check the perimeter, make sure no one’s stumbling around the woods. One of you stay.” Edgar ordered. The three looked at each other before the eldest two left, leaving the youngest and clearly the most charismatic of them behind. 

 

Despite his rather obvious nerves, Spiky drew up to his full height and stood to attention for Edgar, so Sam had to give him points for that. “You.” Edgar said sternly, making the teen stiffen further.

 

Edgar placed his hand firmly on Sam’s shoulder. “This is our charge for the foreseeable future. His name is Cole.” Edgar introduced with false cheeriness. 

 

This caused Spiky’s eyes to shift from Edgar to himself. “Hello, little human.” Spiky said, sounding more childlike with that. 

 

“You will primarily be in charge of him when I’m working.” Edgar unrelentingly stated to the Leviathan. The younger gave a nod off assent. “Show him around while I check your work.” At this, Edgar reluctantly removed his hand from Sam’s shoulder and gently nudged the boy towards his keeper. 

 

“Of course, Sir.” Spiky answered hesitantly, but with a small touch of confidence. 

 

“Good.” Edgar said with that false cheer and turned on his heel, stalking outside after the other two lower Leviathans. 

 

“Well then, little human, time to look around this small place, hm?” He said with surprising camaraderie. He turned and started making his way to the connecting room, but stopped short right away and looked over his shoulder to Sam. “Oh, and please don’t try to run.” 

 

There was a weary, downright  _ pleading  _ note in his voice that made Sam pause in his automatic agreement and he instead asked, “Why?” 

 

Spiky also paused and leveled a look at Sam. “Because if you do, I’m going to chase after you and catch you and carry you back. That won’t be the end of it, either. You’re already going to be bound here, the Boss might make that literal if you pose yourself as a threat. 

 

No doubt I’ll be in serious trouble for letting you run in the first place and it won’t accomplish anything for you, because there’s no one nearby who can help you. No doubt, I can outrun you. So just don’t do it, okay?” He finished, hopefully. 

 

_ Wow.  _ Sam thought.  _ This guy’s done a better job of convincing me to go along with their whims than any of the others before him.  _ He lacked the confidence and calm facade of his predecessors, but he had an innate charisma that it seemed only Sam saw. 

 

“Okay.” Sam could only say, dumbly. 

 

Spiky smiled widely. “Great! Let’s get on with this then! The place is pretty small, though.” Sam followed through the doorway into a kitchen, which was small and clearly outdated. 

 

An old, stained gas stove sat sequestered between chipped wooden countertops. The counters really were old, pieces of wood were sticking up all over the place that would seriously give him a nasty splinter if he so much as touched it. 

 

The fridge was one of those ugly, white ones that you saw only in really cheap places. A small, circular table sat against the wall and under a window, it was probably the most stable piece of furniture in the room. 

 

“Obviously, this is the kitchen. We picked up a lot of food on our way here, as we were ordered to. There’s some canned food in the cabinets and if you’re in the mood for something a little more fresh, then check the fridge. We’ll need to go out from time to time to restock, so if you want something , we  _ might  _ be able to get it for you.” 

 

That was probably the most sincere offer Sam had gotten from a Leviathan Yet. Not the nicest sounding, but the most sincere, by far. “Thanks.” Sam acknowledged, softly. 

 

Spiky looked surprised at the unexpected gratefulness, but shook it off like a champ. “No problem, little man.” 

 

A slight smile tugged at the Leviathan’s lips and he turned to the door opposite the one they came in through, probably to hide it. “This place is just a step up from a shack and it only has one bathroom and one bedroom area.” Spiky said. Then, he muttered to himself, “Place is even smaller than the dorm room.” 

 

Sam didn’t think he was supposed to hear it, but he did, loud and clear. His gut twisted at the reminder of the college student that lost his life. “We don’t really need to sleep, but you usually won’t be alone in the bedroom, anyway.” Spiky continued, heedless of the emotions he’d induced in Sam and his own blatant psychopathy. 

 

The comparatively small Leviathan opened the new door and led Sam through the door, to the bedroom. Ironically, Sam thought, the bedroom was just as big as the kitchen, even though all you’re supposed to do in it is sleep. Spiky situated Sam on a twin bed and then told him to stay there while he grabbed something in the kitchen. 

 

“I grabbed some pizza on the way over here and I could really go for some, right now. Call me if you need anything.” He called, as he slipped back out the door. Sam watched him go, feeling distinctly puzzled. Leviathans ate human food? Liked human food? When did  _ that  _ happen? 

 

Ever the hunter, Sam shook off his surprise and looked around the room, taking stock of his surroundings. There were two windows in the bedroom, both boarded up, likely recently. Guess they didn’t want him crawling out through them. Good call. There was another twin bed on the opposite side of the room and that one had a nightstand. There was also an uncomfortable looking wooden chair in a corner. Other than that, the room was pretty much barren. 

 

There was a slim door at the back of the bedroom, which could have only led to the small bathroom that his guide had mentioned earlier. He’d check on that later, probably when he had to go to the bathroom.  _ Hopefully _ , Sam thought,  _ they have a shower in there and toiletries. I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been since I could take a good shower. Even the cold showers at some of the more crappy motels were better than this.  _

 

Sam laid down on the bed and heaved a tired sigh. Nothing was going as planned, not that Winchesters ever have a well-defined plan. 

 

_ Switching one prison for another.  _ Sam thought, as he thought about the small cabin. 


	19. The Information Sharing Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't set out to accomplish too much in this chapter, but just set up for stuff . . . it went as expected.

Sam honestly didn’t know when staring at the walls of an empty room became so interesting for him, but that’s what Sam found himself doing while he waited for Spiky to come back. At least for about ten minutes, before Crowley’s bracelet heated up and the demon’s voice floated through his head.

 

_“How you doing, Moose?”_ As usual, the demons laid back and cocky demeanor pissed Sam right the heck off.

 

“Oh, you know, just moved from Leviathan Headquarters to a cabin in the woods, in I-don’t-know-which state!” Sam took fiendish delight in the choking sound Crowley made and the sound of something crashing the ground.

 

_“What??”_ Crowley barked into Sam’s mind, once he’d pulled himself together, causing an unpleasant tingling at the back of Sam’s head for a moment. _“How did that happen?? What did you do while I was gone?”_ Crowley demanded.

 

Indignation started to well up in Sam at the fact that Crowley immediately turned to blame him for this, especially when Crowley began to mumble audibly about how one couldn’t leave Winchesters alone for a moment before they destroy something.

 

“It’s not my fault I was attacked by angels!” Sam shot back, before he could stop himself. Crowley quieted immediately, leaving the line silent.

 

_“You were attacked by what?”_ Crowley’s eerily quiet voice asked.

 

“A-Angels.” Sam cursed the stutter. He’d been dealing with the man for years, Crowley wasn’t scary.

 

_“And when did this happen?”_ Crowley growled, angrily.

 

“The day before they moved me.” Sam cautiously replied.

 

“ _And you’re just telling me now??_ ” Crowley burst out, seemingly not thinking about whether or not Sam actually knew how to call _him_ . _“What were the angels doing there? What happened??”_

 

Sam listened as Crowley barked out questions, waiting for the man to quiet before he began to answer them. “What happened was that I was attacked by angels and, ironically, saved by a Leviathan. What were the angels doing? Killing me, apparently. As for not telling you, I’m sorry. I’ve been through a bit of an ordeal and I just didn’t think to tell you. I still would have, though, if you’d called me that day, but you didn’t, so I just . . .” Sam drew off, really done trying to justify himself and his actions.

 

Crowley’s tired sigh filtered through his head. “ _Were you harmed, Moose?_ ” Crowley inquired, quietly.

 

For a second, Sam thought he’d misheard the demon, but after checking with himself to make sure that, yes, Crowley did just check on his well-being, Sam allowed himself to respond. “No, they just tried to kill me. They didn’t hurt me.” God, that sentence sounded weird. “The angels got worse.” He added.

 

“ _Is that right?_ ” Crowley asked, lightly.

 

“They died.”

 

“ _And do I have the Leviathan that saved you to thank for that?_ ” Crowley inquired.

 

“Yep. His name is Edgar.”

 

“ _Haven’t heard of him_ .” Crowley said. “ _But I’ll look into it. Now, I’d like to know why the angels targeted you, if you know. Was it an attack on the Leviathans and you just happened to be there? Did they find out your true identity? What, Moose?_ ”

 

“They-They actually didn’t.” Sam started nervously, worried about what Crowley’s response to his information would be.

 

“ _Then why did they attack you?_ ” Crowley sounded confused now.

 

“Apparently, they’d captured a Leviathan that knew about me and . . . extracted information from them. I don’t know if the Leviathan is still alive, but i kind of hope not. Roman knows what they did and I can tell you, he’s not happy about it.” Sam explained.

 

“ _I get it_ .” Crowley agreed. “ _Almost makes you feel bad for the bastard, if it wasn’t for the fact that he tried to kill you._ ” In that moment, Sam wasn’t sure if he was actually more disturbed by the fact that he did feel that way or by the realization that he was agreeing on an emotional level with a demon.

 

What was happening to him? Crowley, of all demons . . . He didn’t know if Crowley was having his own mini freak out the way Sam was, but Crowley was silent during the duration of Sam’s and only started talking again when Sam had pulled himself back together.

 

“ _So,_ ” Crowley began speaking, quietly. “ _They heard tell of you from this Leviathan and I take it by the way they tried to kill you, that they decided you were too much of a risk factor to leave alive in the hands of the Leviathans?_ ”

 

Sam nodded his head, even though Crowley’s words sounded more like a statement than a question, but stopped when he remembered Crowley could only hear him and not see him. “Yeah.” Sam acknowledged, awkwardly.

 

Crowley hummed. “ _I would have thought the angels would have wanted to kidnap you and force you to work for them, like the Leviathans did. They did something similar with previous prophets, but they probably don’t think of it that way. Then again, that difference is probably the reason why I propositioned Roman with a truce, but never the angels. Both have raw intelligence, but Roman has vision. All of the Leviathans, in general, have the innate ability to not only see clearly what is, but also what could be._

 

_Angels can see nothing but the obvious. From the minute they found out about your existence, they saw nothing but a weapon to be used against them. I doubt they really ever considered the idea that they could turn you around to be used for their own devices, so they instead attempted to take you off the board entirely, like the stupid little soldier ants they are._ ”

 

What Crowley said made logical sense and from all the memories Sam had of the angels and their actions, it rang true. Angels were smash and grab beings. They identified a threat and neutralized it by whatever means necessary. Oh sure, they had the brain power, the ability, to break out of that mold and be clever and manipulative. Sam could even remember specific times when that happened.

 

Sam recalled back when the apocalypse had just started, when he and Dean were winding down from Sam killing Lilith and Dean told him his version of events winding up to the cage opening. How Zachariah knew that Dean would try to stop Sam from opening the cage, so he abducted Dean away to a place called _the Green Room_. He then messed with Dean’s call to him in order to push Sam over the edge. See, that was a dirty and heavily manipulative move that actually worked.

 

Dean described the Green Room as looking like a room at the Ritz Carlton without any furniture. Posh, for a hostage situation involving the apocalypse and very well suited to the high maintenance beings. Demons would have preferred using a graveyard, empty warehouse, or abandoned church.

 

In that way, Sam supposed he could see some similarities between angels and Leviathans, and also highlighting the differences between the two species and demons. Maybe it was that both angels and Leviathans both had a taste for the more expensive and classy locales, desiring to hold onto their decorum, no matter the situation.

 

Obviously, the Leviathans on the lower levels had no problems dirtying themselves to further their species, but demons practically lived in the realm of dirtying themselves and Sam could understand, from that viewpoint, why demons disgusted them so. However, and Sam hated to admit it, but the Leviathans were leagues ahead of the angels when it came to survival.

 

They took orders from the higher-ups, but had the deductive reasoning and quick thinking to adapt and make the best out of unforeseen circumstances. Sam thought of when he first showed his abilities to the Leviathans posing as him and his brother. Even though they were clearly lower on the chain of command and therefore mostly took orders, they were sure quick to see the possibilities.

 

That’s just how the Leviathans were, Sam supposed. More so than angels, they ruthlessly punished those who failed in their tasks or disappointed in any way, but encouraged more free thinking and initiative. Well, this train of thought was making him good and uncomfortable. “I know one of the angel’s names.” Sam offered to Crowley.

 

The demon gave a pause. “ _Angels._ ” He said, dryly. “ _Always monologuing. What was the name you got, then? It might prove useful later on._ ”

 

“Thaddeus.” Sam said thoughtfully, having to remind himself for a moment what the name actually was.

 

_“I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on with the angels, since it seems they’re going to become a problem. In the meantime, I’ve been looking into what you told me about the Leviathans looking for something called the Leviathan Tablet. I’ve found some information on that, but first, something happened with Squirrel the other day._

 

_He had a run-in with a pair of Leviathans. It seems the ones that took you to Leviathan Headquarters went right back to work after they were done with you. I wouldn’t normally waste my time relaying the information_ **_like a bloody carrier pigeon_ ** _, but I know you two would just spit and rave at me if I you both found out I kept quiet about it.”_ Crowley spoke, irritatingly calm.

 

“What?!” Sam demanded, panickingly covering his mouth when he remembered the Leviathan in the kitchen that might come in to check on him if he’s too loud.

 

_“Yeah, yeah.”_ Crowley irritatedly drawled. _“I can imagine your codependent nature is flaring up at this information. Don’t interrupt me and I’ll tell you everything I know.”_

 

Sam sighed in irritation. He wanted to talk about the tablet, but he wanted to know what happened to his brother more. “Alright, just hurry up. I don’t know how much time I have.” Sam conceded, darting a glance at the doorway to the kitchen. 

  



	20. Dean's Tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh! A note at the beginning of the chapter, how rare for me! 
> 
> So, this chapter is MUCH longer than my usual. Normally, a chapter is somewhere around 1,600 or 1,700 words, sometimes even close to 1,800. This? This is, quoting Google Docs word count on this, 3,210 words. Hot damn! Enjoy, people!

Dean grumbled as he trudged through the street, using a cap to cover as much of his face as he could. He kicked a few rocks out of the way in anger, wishing there were some monsters around that he could take his aggression out on. Dean knew his life never was and never could be all peaches and flowers, but everything just recently seemed to all go to hell. Crowley had started checking up on him periodically, becoming an ever present thorn in his side. 

 

If that wasn’t bad enough, an ancient evil was making Dean and his brother into pariahs in every community they visited and he had to deal with all of this alone, because the ever present thorn had convinced his brother to get himself kidnapped by the Leviathan. To make everything just that extra bit worse, he couldn’t even hunt them down and demand to know where his brother was because it would endanger Sam to break his cover. 

 

Dean growled under his breath, this couldn’t get much worse. Just then, a police car pulled up beside Dean in the street, a cop barrelling out of the vehicle before it had even fully stopped, and pulling a gun on Dean. 

 

“Stop, where you are! Put your hands up!” The cop barks at him, his voice clearly panicked. 

 

“Whoa, hey!” Dean cried, holding his hands in the air, as instructed. “I think there’s some kind of mistake, here.” He tried. 

 

“Sure, there is, Dean Winchester.” The officer scoffed, as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. 

 

_ I am so totally screwed.  _ Dean thought as he stared evenly back at the cop. 

 

\---------

 

“Where’s the other one?” The cocky police officer asked, casually glancing around the room as if he believed the action would somehow produce his brother. 

 

Immediately putting his walls up, just like his dad taught him, Dean smirked. Shrugging his shoulders in a way he knew would irritate the officer to no end, Dean casually said, “Don’t know, there a good vegan restaurant in town? My bro sure likes his rabbit food.” 

 

There was a loud bang as the cop jumped to his feet and slammed his hands on the metal table between them. The poor chair lay forgotten, knocked over on the ground behind the cop. “Listen, you sick fuck! I want to know where your sick fuck brother is, right now! What are you two planning?” The cop yelled. 

 

“Well,” Dean made a face. “We were planning on getting Chinese today, if we could find a good place. Could also get Moroccan. Any recommendations?” 

 

“Urgh!” The cop shouted, throwing a dirty look Dean’s way before stomping out of the room.

 

Dean sighed in satisfaction and relief, taking the chance to lean back further in his chair. The seat and handcuffs were uncomfortable, but nothing he wasn’t used to. Still, it was a good day when he could screw with an asshole cop making his job of saving people harder than it was already. 

 

Dean was left alone for a long time after that. He liked to think it was because none of the cops wanted to deal with his rapier wit. He tapped his shoes on the ground and hummed rock music under his breath to pass the time. Eventually, someone did open up the door to the interrogation room, but Dean was disappointed to note that it wasn’t the asshole cop from before and that they hadn’t even brought him food. 

 

Apparently, this country threatened suspected murderers with starvation, because after hours of leaving him locked in their interrogation room, they just moved him to a cell instead of feeding him. Less prisoners to deal with if they all dropped from starvation, Dean guessed. He did wonder why they decided to move him to a cell instead of leaving him in the interrogation room, trying to get some information out of him. 

 

Probably to transfer him, a small fry department like this wasn’t fit for The Dean Winchester. The guy who brought him to the cell honestly looked like he should be retiring soon. You could see his joints rusting through his skin and his hair, what amount there was left, was completely white. Even his voice sounds crotchety, Dean thought. 

 

Actually, he kind of felt irritated at having an old man shepherding him around. He was a skilled hunter and the police considered him to be a serial killer and the guy they chose to lead him between the cell and interrogation room was an oldtimer officer that looked like he was on his way out? Jeez, these people were incompetent!

 

No matter what Dean said to the guy on their trip over to the cells or how he tried to provoke, officer oldie stayed as dry as his skin and said nothing to Dean. Dean probably could have escaped the shitty police station then and there, all he’d likely have to do is breath strongly on the senior citizen and blow him over. Dean sniggered.  _ Like the big bad wolf.  _

 

But it would take him at least a little while to get out of the cuffs without his tools, so he decided he might as well indulge the officers for a moment and let them put him in a cage. Still, with the Leviathans on his tail, he couldn’t stick around too long. 

 

As Dean expected, the elderly officer was wary of Dean enough not to take the handcuffs off him even though he was behind bars. He and his brother had, after all, escaped from custody before. And then Dean was left alone. 

 

Left alone to his thoughts about where his brother was and how Sam was doing. His brother was living with the same creatures that Dean was trying to hide from and the unfairness of their lives left a bad taste in Dean’s mouth. He needed information. The Leviathans were coming and he could escape soon enough, but that wouldn’t change the fact that they would come. He needed to talk to someone. 

 

Dean wasn’t left alone long before the elderly officer came back just to tell him that he was going to be transferred soon to somewhere “more equipped to watch” him. Smart. It was clear the officer wanted to get out of Dean’s presence as soon as he finished relaying the message. 

 

However, Dean was able to convince him to let him call Bobby and hold the phone for him while he talked, as he apparently couldn’t be trusted holding a phone. He did get one phone call, after all. Since he didn’t know how much time he had and the officer holding the phone already thought he was a psycho, Dean decided to forgo any kind of subtly he may have already possessed. As soon as Bobby answered the phone, Dean burst out with  _ the _ question. 

 

“Bobby, do you know what can kill them yet?” Dean asked, ignoring the shocked and horrified look on the officer’s face. As long as the guy was keeping the phone steady. 

 

“Boy?” Bobby gruffly asked, confusion lacing his tone. 

 

“No time to talk, Bobby. Let’s just say that I’m not in a position to run anymore and I need to know how to take one of these things on, asap.” 

 

“Well . . .” The sound of pages in a notebook turning gave Dean hope. “I might’ve gotten something during the interrogation.” The cop’s eyes got even wider with alarm at what he was hearing. Again, Dean ignored him. “The only way I found so far to kill a Leviathan is to chop off their heads, but there’s a way you can hurt em’ that gives you time to go in for the finishing blow.” 

 

“What is it, Bobby?” Dean asked, knowing it was imperative that he get the information quickly before something happens. 

 

“From what I’ve seen, borax is as good a weapon as anything. Burns their skin like acid.” 

 

Dean scrunched his nose. “What’s borax? It sounds fancy, where can I even get it?” 

 

“Not fancy, ya idjit! It’s in cleaning solution, use anything with borax on the list of ingredients!”

 

“Thanks, Bobby-” Dean said, just as the cop pulled the phone away in irritation. 

 

“Be careful, Boy!” Dean heard Bobby say before the officer turned off the phone and gave Dean a dark glance. 

 

Well, no point in trying to look sane, now. “Look, in a little while, this place is going to be swarming with monsters and borax is the only thing that can harm them! I need to get some now!” Dean implored, knowing only too well that it wouldn’t work. 

 

Of course, the man just gave Dean a wary and downright frightened look. “Dear Lord, you’re crazy.” He said it like a revelation, as if Dean being a killer somehow made perfect sense now.    
  
Dean tried not to roll his eyes and watched as the cop hurried out of the cell block like the hounds of hell were on his heels. Dean wanted to call out to the man, anything to get him to fold and at least bring him some cleaning supplies out of pity, but . . . oh, screw it!

 

“Hey! I’m serious here! At least bring me some Windex!” Dean’s words followed the elder out of the room. 

 

\------------

 

Not even two minutes later, the guy came practically running back to the cells, looking panicked and constantly casting looks over his shoulder, like he was expecting someone or something to come after him. Dean was immediately alert. 

 

“What? What happened?” Dean demanded, his worried tone obvious even as he started to form an idea of what might’ve happened. 

 

The guy stumbled over to his cage, seemingly no longer concerned about getting too close to Dean. The Winchester almost asked the elder to sit down and take a breath. Whatever he’d seen looked to be almost too much for his old heart. 

 

However, before he could debate too much within himself about whether it was more important to make sure the guy was alright or solve the problem that had clearly unfolded while he was imprisoned, the man chose to finally answer.

 

“I-I-I” He let out a sharp breath, cast a look over his shoulder, and appeared to pull himself together at least a little bit. “I don’t know what I just saw.” He forced the words out, his voice shaking horribly. 

 

“Maybe it would help if you, you know, bounced what you think you saw off of me.” Dean offered, trying for casual and not quite making it, in his opinion. 

 

“I-I-” The man started again, but thankfully didn’t stutter so much this time around. “I saw-I saw an officer eat-eating another officer. He-He was  _ dead _ .” It seemed as he said the words, the reality of what must’ve happened began to sink in to the man and horror dawned on his features. 

 

It was at this point at this point that Dean started to notice that the guy was talking in a whisper, had been since he first returned to the room, and continued to do so even as he slowly got more of a grip on himself. 

 

“I can explain that.” Dean awkwardly reassured. 

 

“Can you explain why another officer came, told him to stop it without reacting to him eating a person, and then they both transformed their bodies into different people?” He asked, voice rising slightly. 

 

“Uh . . . Yeah.” Dean responded, still feeling awkward. “Who did they turn into? We still might be able to catch them before they turn into someone else.” He tried to get the cop to see how important this was. 

 

“You.” The old man answered simply. 

 

“Of course they did.” Dean muttered to himself in agitation, uncaring if the officer heard him or not. Dean turned his gaze back to the man and realized for the first time that he hadn’t yet moved to unlock the cell. 

 

“Let me out!” He directed the guy, jolting the officer into action. Nervously fumbling with the keys, Geezer managed to unlock the door as Dean looked through the bars. As soon as the lock clicked open and he was uncuffed, Dean pushed the cell door wide open and slid out, the unnerved elder only barely moving out of the way. 

 

“So . . . I probably don’t want to hear the explanation for all this . . .” He started. 

 

“They’re called Leviathans.” Dean answered. “I need you to go to your cleaning closet, grab anything with borax in it, and report back to here. With Leviathans about, it’s not safe for me to leave the room without protection, I’ll be killed on sight. Try not to be seen and overall don’t draw attention to yourself.

 

If someone stops you, assume they’re a Leviathan and pretend that nothing's wrong. If you let on that you know something's going on, you’ll be monster food, got it?” Dean demanded, he didn’t have time to coddle someone who’d just found out monsters existed, if he wanted to keep him alive. 

 

The old guy nodded shakily and stumbled out of the room. Dean watched him go with no small amount of worry that this would be the last time he’d see that guy alive. 

 

Dean shook his head and looked around the room, like inspiration on how to deal with this impossible situation by himself would just hit him in the face. Sighing tiredly, Dean slumped onto a nearby plastic chair. Why was his life so fucked up? He put up with being fate’s bitch and being beaten up by the monster of the week. All he ever asked for was to have his brother by his side. 

 

Now? He can’t even have that. 

 

The officer came huffing back in, clearly having speed walked the whole way. He didn’t move to say anything, so Dean decided to fill the quiet before things got awkward. The man had two cleaning bottles and Dean’s duffle bag that they’d confiscated from him earlier. 

 

_ Yes!  _ Dean mentally cheered. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad, after all! 

 

Dean grabbed one bottle with his left hand and took back his duffle and laid it on the ground with the right. He unzipped the bag and rooted around in it until he found the familiar handle of a machete and withdrew. 

 

He hadn’t realized how vulnerable he’d felt without a weapon until he hefted the machete up to get a good look at it and unwittingly let out a sigh of relief. He then cast an exasperated look at the cleaning bottle. It was as much a weapon at the moment as the machete, but Dean just couldn’t get over the fact that he was now fighting monsters with  _ cleaning supplies! _

 

How was a hunter supposed to be respectable while doing that? Dean remembered the days when being a hunter carried some pride with it . . .

 

Just then, the officer (very purposely) cleared his throat and drew Dean’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Alright, this is the plan.” Dean instructed. “I’ll go out first, you’ll bring up the rear. Think of an explanation to give if we run into an actual cop. When we see a Leviathan, I’ll take care of it.” Dean said, as he made his way to the door. 

 

One glance at the cop’s face now and it seemed the man’s fear had gotten under control enough for indignation to peak through. “Now, see here, young man! I’ve been an officer of the law longer than you’ve been alive, so I’d appreciate if you stop treating me like a new recruit!” He admonished, angrily. 

 

“Look.” Dean turned wearily to the cop. “I’m treating you like a ‘rookie’ because that’s what you are!” The old guy opened his mouth to argue again, but Dean beat him to it. “Have you ever fought a monster before?” Dean asked, quieter now. 

 

The cop opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, making almost-choking noises, but didn’t say refute the words. They both knew he hadn’t. 

 

“I want to make sure no one else here dies today. Think you can get behind that?” Dean asked. 

 

“Yeah.” The old man breathed, for the first time looking like he was willing to work with Dean. He also didn’t think he was imagining the newfound respect shining in the guy’s eyes. “I can.” 

 

Together, the unlikely couple of police officer and hunter crept through the oddly quiet police station.  _ Odd,  _ Dean thought, his eyes warily shifting from side to side.  _ Usually when I break out of a cell, I have to dodge more officers . . . _

 

“Hey, man, what’s up with all the people?” He sarcastically inquired of the officer. 

 

“We’re not a busy town, Kid.” The officer side-eyed him. “We aren’t busy normally and especially during the day. We weren’t about to call in more officers on their off-hours just because we brought you in.” 

 

“That might have been a good call, less people to get in the way.” Dean mumbled to the man. 

 

Dean was so busy trying to be stealthy and keeping a lookout in the hallway, that he nearly missed the Leviathan version of himself standing confused in the interrogation room he’d previously been in. “Hold up, I’m going in.” Dean took the time to say before bursting into the room. 

 

The Leviathan version of himself whirled around in surprise, though he smirked when he saw Dean. “Dean Winchester!” He/It huffed. “My partner just went off looking for you. Where’s your brother?” He casually approached the hunter. 

 

“Somewhere you can’t hurt him.” Dean stubbornly replied, pulling the cleaning supply bottle from behind his back and let loose the spray right at the Leviathan’s face. Dean watched as the creature that mirrored him reared back in surprise, howling and clutching at its melting face. 

 

Before it could even attempt to recover, Dean took the machete and cut clean through the creature’s neck. The back wall of the interrogation room was liberally splashed with blackened blood before the headless body even hit the floor. Dead. 

 

The confrontation apparently drew some attention, as he’d barely had the time to let a sigh of relief before turning around at the sound of a scuffle happening right behind him. 

 

The Leviathan that was trying his hand at being Sam (you can try, but you’ll never be him) lunged at the elderly cop that had been watching Dean’s back, just to get a huge splash of cleaning solution to the face from a bottle of cleaner with the top removed. 

 

“Argh!” The inhuman thing cried, something akin to a roar rising up from the creature’s throat. The horrible sound drove home what Dean already knew, that no matter what it looked like, this could never hold even a passing resemblance to his brother. 

 

With renewed strength, Dean swung his blade at the thing’s neck and toppled this one, too. 

 

The two men were left panting in an empty interrogation room, blood splattered on its walls and in the hallway, with two creature bodies and a dead officer in the office down the hall. They looked at each other with wide eyes. 

 

“You alright?” Dean asked the cop, getting a weary nod in return. 

 

“Yeah.” The man answered. 

 

“Good. Good.” Dean said awkwardly. 

 

They kept looking at each other. What did they do now?


	21. Tablets and Prophets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this taking longer to update than usual, but it's longer so there's a justification for ya!

_ “So, Squirrel got the guy to agree to help make the both of you be dead, using the Leviathan’s bodies. They cleaned up the blood, positioned the bodies and probably came up with a cover story to fit the scene.”  _ Crowley finally finished relaying what Dean had told him. 

 

Sam was caught between growling in frustration at the knowledge that Dean had to deal with all of this alone and sighing with relief that his brother was safe and unharmed. 

 

_ “Now.”  _ Crowley continued when Sam didn’t speak.  _ “If your curiosity is sated, can I relay what I’ve learned about the Leviathan Tablet and why the Leviathans are looking so hard for it?”  _ Sam didn’t need to be able to see Crowley to be overwhelmed by the sheer exasperation in his voice. 

 

“Yes, of course.” Sam replied, as he scooted to the edge of his bed in his excitement. He could put aside his worries about his brother for later, he was quite interested in the information on the tablet. 

 

_ “Okay, this is going to be lengthy, so try and stay with me, Moose.”  _ The instructions were a combination of patronizing and serious and Sam couldn’t help but be offended by it, though he didn’t argue.  _ “The Leviathan tablet is apparently one of the Words of God.” _

 

“Words of God?” Sam immediately asked, wondering about the strange term. 

 

_ “I’ll explain it if you don’t interrupt!”  _ Crowley rebuked. “ _ Way far back in the old days, one of the overgrown pigeons, Metatron if you were wondering, wrote down the Words of God onto stone tablets and scattered them across the Earth. They reside in completely unknown locations. What they say is also unknown. Only prophets can read it and there is only ever one prophet at a time. Not even angels can read it.”  _

 

Sam’s mind tried to wrap itself around that absolute bombshell. “Do you know anything else about it?” Sam inquired, hesitantly. 

 

_ “A lot more.”  _ Crowley stated, clearly smug in his insider knowledge. 

 

“Well, are you going to tell me?” Sam demanded, irritated. Why did Crowley have to take so long with this? 

 

_ “Fine.”  _ Crowley borderline whined.  _ “You Winchesters have no sense of drama!”  _

 

“Believe me, Crowley.” Sam deadpanned. “You have enough drama for all of us. Just get on with it.”    
  


Crowley huffed, but did get on with it.  _ “The Leviathan Tablet was made when God was creating the Leviathans or sometime after, it apparently has written on it a way to kill the Leviathan.”  _

 

“So that’s why they’re looking for it . . .” Sam murmured. If it had the way of beating them on it, of course they would want to control where it was and what was done with it. 

 

_ “Correct. Roman enterprises, as you know, have been funding excavations to look for the thing and with how many they have going on at the moment, it’s only a matter of time before they find it. When they do . . .”  _

 

“End of days?” Sam joked, wryly. 

 

_ “It’s already as close to the end of days as the Leviathans want it. No, they’ll just have complete control over presumably the only knowledge in the world of how to defeat them, besides beheading them all individually. More importantly, however, is when they get it . . .”  _

 

“They’ll take over the world?” Sam interrupted, not really knowing what else would happen if the Leviathans got their tablet. 

 

_ “No and stop interrupting, Moose.”  _ Crowley growled, supremely irritated at being continually cut off. 

 

“Sorry.” Sam mumbled begrudgingly, after a small pause.

 

_ “As I was saying.”  _ Crowley started.  _ “Once they get the Leviathan Tablet, and they soon will, they’ll need someone to read it.”  _ He finished. 

 

Sam blinked in confusion.  _ What?  _

 

Apparently reading his mind, Crowley wasted no time in clarifying.  _ “They can’t read it themselves. No creature can read any of the Words of God, even angels. The only thing that can read it is a prophet.”  _

 

“A prophet?” Sam questioned. He felt like he’d heard that term before. 

 

_ “A Prophet of the Lord is a human who sees visions and, among other things, can translate any of the words of God. You should note that there’s only one prophet born at any time.”  _

 

And suddenly, like a lightbulb going off in Sam’s head, he knew where he’d heard the word “prophet”. His mind reeled back to when Chuck was alive, because even though he had just gone missing, how could he not be dead by now? Chuck, the prophet who was active during the first apocalypse (and isn’t it messed up that he had to number which apocalypse he was thinking about?). Sam remembered that Chuck had been protected by the winged dicks hardcore at the time and was tasked with writing the Winchester Gospels. 

 

When he died, another prophet took over, then? It would make sense, given what Sam knew, but why hadn’t he and Dean heard anything about a prophet? They kinda were supernatural magnets and they tended to know just as much, if not more than, the creature is pulling the strings for the latest disaster. Surely, after all this time, they would’ve heard something about another prophet running around, especially if this one documented their lives, too. 

 

Was the prophet new or even yet to come into existence? How long did it take from the death of a prophet for a new prophet to be created? Did a new prophet get born, does a normal person just suddenly become a prophet when the old one died? Were they always preordained to be a prophet or did they just always hold the potential to be? 

 

Did the angels know who the prophet was and were protecting them? Are there just a bunch of potentials of which any could be the new prophet, like in Buffy the Vampire Slayer? How many prophets were there?!

 

_ “Moose, stop overthinking things!”  _ Crowley barked through their connection, stopping Sam’s freakout in its tracks. 

 

“Why wouldn’t I overthink it?? You’ve basically told me that--wait.” Sam stopped, as he began to think through what Crowley just said. “They’re basically going to kidnap someone to force them to read the Tablet?!” Sam’s eyes darted around as his mind tried to process this new development. 

 

_ “Correct.”  _ Crowley sounded inordinately pleased.  _ “And new prophets are nearly impossible to find for demons. I should know, I tried it. Even if the prophets weren’t being protected by angels, it’s not like there’s a tracking app for them or anything. Sadly.”  _

 

“Lee.” Sam groaned, the nickname slipping out, unconsciously. If Crowley was shocked by the new nickname, it only showed for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued. 

 

_ “Yes, well, since you asked nicely, I’ll get on with it.”  _ There was a hint of awkwardness in his tone now, instead of his usual self-assured tone. _ “Since the Leviathans will stop at nothing to achieve their goals and are already funding excavation digs into other countries and have been for a while to get their precious tablet. There is no doubt to be had that they’ll soon get their mitts on it.” _

 

Sam didn’t waste a second before opening his mouth to argue. “But-” 

 

_ “Moose, really. Don't be stubborn. They are quite literally digging up chunks of the Earth simultaneously all around the world to get this thing. They will get it and they will tear apart anyone who so much as threatens to get in their way. That’s where you come in.”  _ Crowley said. 

 

“Excuse me?” Sam demanded, his voice going a little higher at the implication. “You want me to get torn apart by Leviathans??” 

 

_ “No, Moron!”  _ Crowley barked, quieting him.  _ “I don’t want that.”  _ He added, after a moment.  _ “But you need to think about this logically. There’s no way for us to really know where the Leviathan Tablet is until their digs find it, yes?”  _

 

“I guess.” Sam nodded in reflex. 

 

_ “Right. Well, the second they find it, they’ll secure it so there’s really no way my demons can take it from them then. My people will just die trying, which would be some mixture of amusing and frustrating and not at all what we’re looking to accomplish.” _

 

Well, Sam figured, Crowley was the idea man. “What would you suggest, then?” Because, doubtless, he would have a plan. 

 

_ “You wait until they bring the Tablet to your location and make sure you have at least a rough idea of where it is so you can steal it later.”  _ Sounding good so far, Sam thought.  _ “So, after they move the Tablet . . .”  _ Yeah?  _ “You wait for them to abduct the prophet they need to read it.”  _ Crowley then dropped that bomb. 

 

A beat.  _ What? _

 

“You want me to wait until they kidnap some person?? Do nothing to stop it?!” Sam demanded, incredulous. He knew Crowley was a demon, but could he really not stop being a complete bastard, no matter the situation, could he? 

 

_ “Listen to me!”  _ Crowley demanded, over Sam’s hysterics. Unwillingly, Sam quieted at the shout.  _ The angels choose the prophet out of a list of potentials. When I haven’t been dealing with you and your brother, I’ve been locating potentials and checking if they’ve escalated in rank, but none have been anything more than potential prophets. It’s going to be near impossible for me to find the prophet. It makes more sense to wait for the Leviathans to find and capture the new prophet and take them where the Tablet is before you act. That way, they do the work for us and everything we want to steal is in one place.” _

 

It made sense, it really did. Sam just didn’t like it. He may be acting spy now, but he and his family saved people. It’s what they did, what they identified with. Playing fast and loose with someone’s life besides their own, especially since the prophet could be anyone. It could be someone in the Peace Corps. It could be a small child. It could be the mother of a small child. 

 

Images of the hole Sam’s own mother left in their family when she died filled his mind. He didn’t want to risk that for someone else by doing nothing and waiting. 

 

But . . .

 

He had a world full of people to think about. He’d already been able to pass on some really valuable information to his demon accomplice . . . could he really afford to get distracted from his mission to try to locate and hide a prophet? Take a break from his mission that could save the world to go on a wild goose chase for a person he didn’t even know? 

 

“Crowley, I have to go.” Sam said, as if he were talking on the phone. 

 

Crowley seemed geared up to argue, but then thought better of it and acquiesced. “Sure, Moose. Just try not to think too hard. I’ll call on you tomorrow for an update.” 

 

“I won’t.” Sam replied, quietly.

 

“Won’t what?” A voice came from the door to the kitchen, badly startling Sam and causing him to almost fall off the bed.

 

“W-What?” Sam stuttered out, seeing Spiky in the doorway, looking at him oddly. 

 

“You won’t what?” Spiky repeated. Sam’s brain was having a hard time catching up with the situation. He didn’t respond. Spiky seemed to catch onto that and rolled his eyes. “You said, just a second ago, ‘I won’t’. What did you mean by that and who were you talking to?” The Leviathan casually asked, clearly not thinking much of it, even as he asked. 

 

“Um . . .” Sam mumbled. He tried to think of a good excuse for what spiky heard, before dejectedly sighing and saying the only thing that came to mind. “I was talking to myself.” 

 

“Talking to . . . yourself?” Spiky repeated, slowly. Sam felt like an idiot. 

 

“Yeah, well, I’ve been through a lot the last few days and haven’t had anyone to really talk to.” Sam tried to sound like a petulant child. Apparently it worked, as Spiky moved on after that. 

 

“Well, we can talk all you want tonight.” Spiky said, walking away from the door and further into the room. “We’ll be alone here tonight and most of tomorrow. I just got word that the others are going with Roman to check on a project of his.” 

 

“A project?” Sam asked, tilting his head in confusion. 

 

Spiky got an uncomfortable look on his face and shifted his eyes around the room. “You won’t be telling the others that I told you too much about this, right?” Kind of naive of him, really, Sam thought. Sam nodded. “There’s a facility in these parts where this science guy has been trying experiments. I don’t know what it is, but he’s been tasked with developing a secret formula that needs to have certain effects on humans.” He said all of this with a smile. 

 

“Special effects?” Sam asked, eyes squinting. 

 

The Leviathan shook his spiky haired head. “We don’t know what it’s  _ supposed _ to do, only a select few know that, but they’re going to go check and make sure that it’s doing whatever it’s supposed to.”

 

“I see.” Sam said mildly, his brain already whirring. 

 

“Yeah and that’s why I’m watching you alone tonight.”

 

“When are they leaving?” Sam asked curiously, leading into his next question. 

 

“In a few hours, four tops. Why?” Spiky looked at him, strangely. His piercings almost invisible in the dark, shadowy room. 

 

“Oh.” Sam said, blinking. “Can I come?” 


	22. We Going?

At first, when Sam insisted on going with the others to this mysterious “facility”, Spiky tried to talk him out of it. “Why would you want to go there?” He asked, when he realized Sam was serious. “Meetings are boring and there’s not much you could do there, especially since the boss isn’t likely to let you get out of his sight.” 

 

“Why not?” Sam pitched into a whine. 

 

“Because.” Spiky replied, unphased by the whining. “Having you wander around in that place could be dangerous for you. The boss has plans for you, he won’t want those threatened unnecessarily.” 

 

_ Lovely.  _ Sam thought, sarcastically. “Still, I want to go! I’ll go stir crazy stuck here and if Mr. Roman needs me for something, then I’m all the way over here instead of with him!” Sam broke out the puppy dog eyes, which worked like a charm . . . he could actually see the  _ ancient evil  _ crumble before his eyes!

 

“I’ll go ask Edgar then, but don’t be surprised if he completely rejects the idea.” Spiky mumbled, realizing that Sam wouldn’t budge until he got a response from someone higher up. He left the room and Sam sat alone in the almost-dark. 

 

The shadows of the barren room seemed even bleaker without Crowley snarking in his head or Spiky standing by his bed and acting oddly relatable. Sam’s eyes darted around and his spine shivered straighter, even as he knew that for once there was no threat waiting to leap out of the shadows at him. 

 

Oddly enough, this was both the most helpless he’s felt in months and the most safe he’s been in his whole life. “Irony, we meet again.” Sam said to himself, sardonically. He didn’t realize that he’d been, at least on some level, expecting Crowley to reply the words until no one responded and Sam felt a crushing disappointment. 

 

At least Sam didn’t have to put up with his pathetic existence alone for much longer, as Spiky walked back in with casualness that his worried face didn’t show. “Edgar wants to talk to you.” Spiky said, calmly. Truly, the only part of his body that didn’t seem capable of appearing calm were his facial features. Sam found that oddly charming. 

 

Still, it was worrying that the most laid back Leviathan he’d met thus far was worried about this meeting.  _ Still,  _ Sam reminded himself.  _ I drove the whole way here with Edgar. If he was going to hurt me, he’d have done it then.  _

 

So, Sam gestured for Spiky to lead him to where Edgar was and followed after him, obediently. When they got to the living room, Sam’s eyes landed on the only figure in the room besides them. 

 

Edgar sat sipping on a glass of . . . bee, it looked like. He didn’t look as refined as Roman did, but he still looked out of place drinking. Like it was beneath him. “Cole.” Edgar gave a sharp smirk, putting the drink down and beckoning Sam closer. 

 

Spiky moved to the side, remaining as unobtrusive as possible, being all soldier-ant at the moment. Sam reluctantly stepped toward the creature before him, ignoring every animal instinct telling him not to go any closer to that  _ thing.  _ Even when he was trying to look inviting, Edgar just had this predatory air about him that so many Leviathans had a hard time concealing. 

 

It must be difficult for a wolf to appear as a sheep. 

 

As soon as Sam sat, Edgar went for the direct approach. “I hear you want to go with us and The Boss to check on a pet project of his?” Dark eyes pierced into Sam’s own, lighter ones. 

 

“I-I want to go.” Sam confirmed, squirming in the seat, self-consciously. The smirk on Edgar’s face intensified at this. 

 

“And why would you want to do that?” 

 

_ To spy any information I can give to Crowley and my brother,  _ Sam thought. “You brought me here to help, right? Well, I want to help! Please let me help!” Sam wasn’t used to this kind of thing at all and was more than a little confused about he should act. So, he decided to go for scared, but innocent and eager. So there!

 

“We don’t need your help with anything now and it would be troublesome to keep an eye on you, while we’re trying to get business done.” Edgar stated. 

 

“But you could need me! And Mr. Roman said before the attack that he was going to start training me! I should go with you on your trip and learn more about what it is you guys do!” Sam insisted. 

 

Edgar hummed and swirled his drink in his hand. The Leviathan fell silent as he contemplated Sam’s resolve. Sam, in turn, stayed in his seat, nervously twitching as the creature before him deliberated on his answer. 

 

“I’ll let the boss know you’re coming. See what he thinks about it.” Edgar finally replied. The line was delivered so calmly, that it took Sam a few seconds to catch onto the fact that he’d just been given permission to tag along, although Roman would have the final word on the matter. 

 

“Thank you!” Sam popped up from his seat. A wide grin spread on his face at the thought of what information he might find to help his brother. If he could get away for a moment to ask someone where they were or if he could find a landmark of some kind, Crowley might even be able to pass on the location of the facility! “Thank you so much - - Sir!” Sam thanked, happily. 

 

“Well, it’s like you said; bringing you could be beneficial. Besides, I’m sure the Boss would like to check on his other pet project, while he’s in the area.”   
  
Sam ignored the upsetting implications of being referred to as a “pet project” and just focused on the positives of the situation. He was going to help Dean. Later that night, after Sam fell asleep, Edgar contacted Roman to have a discussion. 

 

And Sam dreamed of an angel feather in a box. 

 

**(Dean)**

 

Sam had been a huge help to him the last week. Crowley too, if Dean was being honest with himself, but he didn’t like to think about the demonic asshole in any positive way. 

 

While Dean was still irritated by Sam being with Dick Roman, he couldn’t deny anymore that it may be their best chance to stop the Leviathans. Dean had been able to take his first breath of relief after the incident at the police station. The public now thought he and his brother were dead and the two Leviathans ruthlessly hunting them were gone, hopefully never to come back. 

 

Crowley showed up soon after that, wanting to know how Dean was doing so he would have something to tell Sam when he bugged Crowley about it later. So knowing that the information would make its way to Sam, Dean irritatedly relayed what’d recently happened to him to the demon and, in turn, Crowley related some information of his own that he’d nonchalantly mentioned that Sam had actually told him a while ago. 

 

Dean’s eyebrow had twitched violently at that. “You mean to tell me that Sam told you Romans trying some shit in Oregon and you’re only telling me about this now??” Dean demanded, enraged. 

 

“Yes, well.” Crowley started carefully, though not worriedly. “It looks like you’ve had a lot on your plate up until now and I’ve also been having my people look into it for you, since the smarter brother is gone.” 

 

Dean’s eyebrow twitched again. “And what did you find out?” 

 

“Well, Moose read out some documents for me, contracts buying out businesses, homes and the like. Apparently from what i’ve found out, two of their own are posing as realtors and using them to buy up spaces for Roman Enterprises to build on. Seems like not everyone was eager to sell, though . . .” Crowley somewhat muttered the last part. 

 

“Why do you think that?” Dean asked, leaning forward to peer closely at the demon. 

 

“Because a large handful of people have also died in the area since the Leviathans set up shop there. Incredibly suspiciously, all of them died in accidents and they all owned properties in town. After their deaths, signed contracts for their properties ended up in their hands.” 

 

“So they’re buying up properties for development, killing anyone who opposes them, and still get the properties they’re after.” Dean grit his teeth. 

 

“Exactly. Now, I’m sure you’ll want to deal with the problem before there’s another casualty, so here’s the address they’re operating from in Oregon.” 

 

It had been harder to deal with the Leviathans without his brother’s help,hunting alone was even more dangerous than hunting normally was and few were crazy enough to do it, but he’d had the element of surprise on his side, knowing who and where they were before the faux realtors even noticed he was in the area. 

 

Of course, it helped that one of the Leviathans, the assistant whose name Dean for the life of him couldn’t remember, really wanted his boss dead. The realtor lady must have said and done some shit to get the guy so angry. He actually asked Dean if he could eat her body, some weird cannibalistic fantasy shit. Dean let him, too. 

 

As freaked out as it made him, it was a good disposal system. So, he let the poor guy just do his thing, ‘specially as he said it was his last request before Dean cut his head off. So, Assistant Guy ate his ex-boss and Dean cut his head off and that was that. 

 

Now, Dean was camping out in a forest in New Jersey, where something that the residents of the town were insisting was the Jersey Devil, was responsible for a bunch of missing people. And a cat. Bobby came with him on this hunt, arguing “I don’t need you bein’ one of the missing people, Idjit!”, so her was in the area, too. 

 

At the moment that Dean was setting up camp in the forest, Bobby was off getting food to bring back to their campsite. The stoned ranger they’d talked to before heading out had warned them that not all of the forest was available to camp in and, in fact, a large chunk of it off to one side was privately owned by some company, but  _ Ranger Rick  _ couldn’t remember the company name. Shocker. 

 

Naturally, being the kind of people who broke serious laws recreationally, he and Bobby kept walking through the forest until they came to the NO TRESPASSING and PRIVATE PROPERTY signs and then walked past them. 

 

So Dean Winchester was now putting up their tent on his own, in a forest with a man-eating creature active in it and really hoping he doesn’t get arrested for going onto private property in the process.It was just as Dean had almost finished getting his tent up that the unmistakable sound of a group of people thudding through the underbrush caught his attention. 

 

Dean swore angrily, the first possibility coming to mind being that some non-stoned ranger or security guard was actually on the premises. Or maybe it was some people from the company that owned the place, doing who-knows-what. 

 

Switching into Hunter Mode, Dean silently stood up from his crouched position next to the tent and made his way quietly through the forest. First step to not getting caught and finding out if he and Bobby were going to have to set up camp somewhere else was to find out who the people were and what they were doing there. 

 

Dean’s progress through the forest was slow, he had to be careful if he didn’t want to make noise and alert the people to his presence, but he eventually came to a stop behind a fallen tree when he saw something. Some men. More precisely, a man and a boy. 

 

The man looked to be a bit scruffy, with his facial hair and his clothes. Like he was a mechanic or something. The boy was much, much smaller, with black as night hair and crystal clear blue eyes. The two were approaching a lone cabin, something Dean hadn’t expected to even be there. Yet, that wasn’t what really caught his attention. 

 

Dean took in the predatory grace the mechanic guy walked with, so familiar to him. Dean would expect someone built like him to carry himself much the way Dean himself did, nimble but heavily crashing around, at the same time. 

 

Instead, he stalked through the forest as an absolute predator, like anything that might trip him up would scurry out of the way long before he reached it. This person was a Leviathan, Dean was sure of it. 

 

Dean’s eyes turned to the young boy, who moved so differently from the other man with him, and stayed riveted on this person until both men disappeared into the cabin, looking for any similarity between this person and his brother. 

 

A lot less careful this time, Dean rushed back to the campsite, heedless of the two different Leviathans emerging from the cabin and fanning out to check the perimeter. Once he got back, he threw himself on his bag and wrestled his phone out of the thing. Dean ignored Bobby, who kept trying to get his attention, asking what was wrong. 

 

Dean punched 666 into the phone and called the number, tapping his foot in agitation as he waited for the demon to pick up. Several minutes later, when none of his calls got through to the King of Hell, Dean let out a frustrated yell and slammed the phone down. Bobby watched for a moment as Dean cussed out Crowley for everything under the sun. 

 

Eventually, Dean tumultuously settled and Bobby took this chance to speak. “Dean? What’s wrong, Boy? What’d ya’ see?” The older man sounded worried. Dean peered over at him, sucked in a shaky breath and said what was on his mind. 

 

“I think I just saw Sam.” 


	23. Useful Tool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Dick both have plotting to do.

“What do you mean you’ve seen the Moose?” Crowley demanded, once Dean finally got him to answer his phone. 

 

“Just what I said!” Dean agitatedly replied. “I saw a Leviathan, I’m sure it was a Leviathan, walking a human kid to a remote cabin under guard! I’m sure it was Sam!” Dean all but yelled into the phone. 

 

An almost unbearable pause from Crowley followed and then, “Yeah, that sounds like the Moose right about now.” The demon’s voice sighed. 

 

Feeling validated, Dean calmed minimally and turned to another question he had. “Who was that with him?” He demanded. 

 

“What? You expect me to know the answers to the universe?” Crowley irritatedly asked. 

 

“You’ve been in contact with him, haven’t you? You’re the only one outside of those freaks that Sam can talk to and the only way I hear about my baby brother! You better know who he’s alone with right now!” Dean yelled, gradually getting more angry as he spoke. 

 

Distantly, he knew he was being more than a little bit unreasonable, but he was in no mood to stop right then. Surprisingly, Crowley didn’t feed into it or start yelling like he normally would, instead calming down. 

 

Probably, he realized there was something far more important than yelling and getting angry. “I’m trying, Squirrel. It’s a hard balancing act visiting with the Moose, getting information from him, telling you what you need to know, and looking into every piece of information trying to figure out if it has anything to do with the Leviathan’s ultimate plan.” 

 

Dean’s breath caught as he actually heard the stress in the other man’s voice. And, yeah, he could see how that would be quite a workload. Even if only to himself, Dean could admit that he would probably crack a little bit under the pressure if their roles were reversed. 

 

“Okay, then,” Dean moved on, uncomfortably. “Do you know why my brother is in a cabin in the woods like in some horror movie? It’s not filling me with confidence. The last I heard, you said he was at Leviathan HQ.” 

 

“In answer to your question, I do know why Moose is in the cabin, I just talked to him earlier today, actually. As for why specifically, I’m not telling you.” The demon stated simply. 

 

“What?! Why! I’m his brother, I deserve to know!” Dean barked. 

 

“Because you’ll throw an absolute fit if I tell you.” Crowley retorted. 

 

“Crowley, you--”

 

“Moving on--”

 

“CROWLEY--”

 

“So, the person Moose was with goes by the name Edgar. I don’t know if that’s the name of the human whose body he stole or if it’s older than that, but I did find some information on him, per Moose’s request. That was actually what I was busy with when you were trying to call me several times. Very annoying, by the way.” 

 

Dean sighed and scrubbed agitatedly at his face, realizing he wouldn’t get any more out of Crowley on what happened to send his brother to a forest. “Fine and what did you find out?” At least the King of Hell was distracting him with something he actually wanted to know. 

 

“Officially, he is not listed anywhere as an employee of Roman Enterprises and doesn’t exist anywhere on Roman’s radar. Unofficially, there are all the signs that this guy is Roman’s right hand man. He and Roman show up in the same location every time it seems like it’s time for Edgar to report in on a project, but the rest of the time they seem to be in completely different places. It’s not all that surprising that this is the person Roman chose to watch Moose. 

 

Edgar seems to flit around locations very quickly, taking care of what I imagine are high-profile jobs and checking in on their . . . let’s call them ‘investments’. One of my men, one of the ones that survived anyway, also caught him having a follow-up meeting with the Alpha Vampire. Apparently, reassuring him that the deal was still on and there would be something in the food supply for a while, but it was harmless to supernaturals.” 

 

“Well, that doesn’t sound good.” Dean felt the need to state the obvious. 

 

“As it shouldn’t be if the Leviathans are involved. I still don’t know what this means or how it’s going to happen, but I have my people working on it.” 

 

“Well, figure it out faster. Who knows what they’re planning to do to people if they’re warning the vampires about a contaminated food supply!” 

 

“Research takes time, Squirrel.” Crowley spoke to Dean like he would a toddler, causing the man’s metaphorical feathers to ruffle. “In the meantime, watch what you eat. Just don’t eat any suspicious food.” 

 

“We’re covered. There’s a small-time diner Bobby got us dinner at. Got himself a chicken geezer salad-” Dean ducked the empty beer can Bobby threw at his head at that remark. “And got me this  _ awesome  _ thing called a Turducken Slammer! It’s like a sandwich made of your top three most edible birds!” 

 

“What the  _ bloody hell  _ is a--”

 

“Well, this talk has been both stressful and informative. I think I need to burn off the extra sandwich calories and I know the perfect thing! Now that I know where he is, I’m going to go see my brother.”

 

“Squirrel, I swear-! Don’t you dare! You’ll get caught and ruin the whole mission!”

 

“Hmm . . . Don’t care!” Dean replied and cheerily hung up. 

 

Dean smirked as he cell phone rang again and again as he ignored it.  _ Paybacks a bitch _ , he thought, sticking his hands in his pockets and meandering back over to Bobby. 

 

He had an infiltration to plan. 

 

\------------

 

When he first heard that some of his men had found a human child curled up in the back of their vehicle, Dick Roman could admit he was underwhelmed by the report, especially when the minion calling told him they’d abducted the child and were currently holed up in a shitty motel. 

 

Why should he care? Why were they bothering their superior with this? Better yet, why hadn’t they gotten rid of the child yet? Either toss him out on the street and drive off or kill the child and . . . eat it or something. It wasn’t that hard. 

 

When he inquired about this, of course using his  _ you’ll never be heard from again if you don’t wise up now  _ voice and his underling thankfully understood it. It was quickly explained to him that this child, _ this oddity,  _ was as far from being a normal human as possible. 

 

It could see them, the underling explained. They hadn’t known why the child was screaming at first, but after the child stopped screaming, he mentioned their true faces, somehow knowing what they really looked like. 

 

How? How could this little marvel, this young human have some of the powers of a supernatural creature? In the span of a few seconds, Dick went from pissed off to excited. He naturally praised the grunt for his and his partner’s quick thinking in securing the child, but his mind was already on the future. 

 

Dick inquired a bit more about the child. What was his personality? Was he easily led? Moldable? A danger? 

 

He listened as the child was described to him as weak, scared and weak-willed, who was much more interested in knowing more about them than taking them down. Dick finally gave the order to bring the boy to headquarters and hung up. 

 

This human child could be his greatest tool yet, Dick mused to himself as he gazed at a fixed point in his office. Maybe the kid could only see the true forms of supernatural beings and if that proved true, then he would be settled into the position of soldier and trained accordingly. 

 

If he could do more . . .

 

Dick scooted his chair back a bit and reached into his deck to bring out a box. Inside the box was a feather, a souvenir of his time in an angel. Which had been quite the experience. He couldn’t touch it, sadly. He could only look at it and smirk at the memory. The angel had had the most unique wings and they’d managed to stash it before the body they were in crumbled. 

 

He decided at that moment that this would be his test. Only angels could touch the wings of other angels and so regardless of the empire he’d built, Dick could only marvel at the thing. He would test the boy with this and see if he could touch it. 

 

If he were someone who could do something even Leviathans couldn’t do? Now, that was something and this boy might be something special. It was after he’d met the boy, who really was quite shy, and actually tested him that Dick began to get excited. 

 

He could touch it. The little morsel could touch the feather. All sorts of thoughts ran through Dick Roman’s mind, all sorts of possibilities. This would be great, he decided. 

 

In all likelihood, the fact that the child could touch the angel feather probably meant he could touch their true forms. Only angels could touch another angel’s wings, previously anyway, and he could tell for himself upon meeting him that the boy reeked of human. 

 

Still, an angel’s wings occupied another plane of existence. Any other human would’ve just seen an empty box. Perhaps with training, the child could learn to touch an angel’s entire being, to grasp on and pull them away from the body. 

 

A Leviathan could kill an angel with no problem, like a much older brother could easily beat down their much younger siblings, but being able to touch more than their vessels was something else. If this boy could do that, then it opened up the possibility of not just killing angels, but trapping them. 

 

His scientists and the humans could work out so many experiments to do on the angels. Dick’s smile widened in a way he knew was frightening. 

 

Why kill an angel when you could capture it? And to think of all the things they could use them for, with the kid’s help; the sky’s the limit. Anything from using an angel’s power to fuel the wards on his more important properties, imbue select workers with the power of an angel or even gain access to Heaven! 

 

Dick licked his lips in anticipation. He couldn’t wait. It was only a matter of time. 

 

Yet, there was one problem. The kid, himself. 

 

Young . . . Cole . . . was shy and sometimes withdrawn, but he clearly had a curious streak and there were brief moments, which both he and his subordinates had experienced, where the child would show a backbone. Insist on something. Stand his ground. That was all well and good, but it could spell trouble later on. 

 

He could be . . . brought around to their way of thinking, with time. They had prioritized keeping him under watch, restricted, and under their collective thumb both physically and mentally. They had no intention to ever let him go, of course, but they had to be careful. He was still young yet, but he also had the potential to begin standing up for himself more and more. 

 

That was a possibility, as well. 

 

The leader of the Leviathans would need some kind of assurance. 

 

Nothing too extreme, Dick told himself, just something to make the boy more receptive to their teachings. Dick chuckled, lightheartedly. And it just so happened that he had a science facility with another project he should really check in on. 

 

He could kill two birds with one stone, deal with the reports he’s gotten about failed experiments and give them their new objective at the same time. He wanted all available resources on it; a concoction just for Cole. 

 

Not much longer after deciding this, Dick got a call from Edgar, who reported that the boy wanted to come along on the trip to the facility. 

 

Dick had stationed Cole in a cabin relatively nearby the science facility for ease of access and this was turning out to be somewhat of a gift and a curse. On the one side, the child was showing more of an interest in the facility, which could only help in making him more amiable to their desires, and it would give Dick’s scientists the chance to gather any DNA or samples they might need for their new task. 

 

On the other, the boy would need to be kept under strict watch especially while there, both to keep him from getting underfoot and to keep him from becoming the victim of any more lingering “failed experiments”. He wouldn’t let one scientist’s failure to create a proper concoction end his most important project. 

 

Now, time to get started. 


	24. Visits, Experiments, and Bibbing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belated Merry Christmas, People!
> 
> In case anyone noticed, I changed a whole bunch of little things in this story either to help the flow of the story or just to be easter-eggy. For instance, this chapter takes place around the time of the episode "How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters" and, in canon, this is where they find out that Dick Roman is the head baddie. Obviously, my characters already know this because I decided that there were certain things about the Leviathans that were going to have found out before the start of the story, such as this. Also, much like with the cop that lets Dean free when the Leviathans infiltrated the police station, I don't think they did the reveal of Dick Roman very well in the canon episode. 
> 
> So I changed it. 
> 
> Also a little easter egg, in the cannon episode, the guys are staying in a cabin in the woods instead of pitching a tent the way they do in my story. That's because I decided that the cabin Sam was staying at that the Leviathan got from killing the previous owner would be that very same cabin. I love world-fucking. 
> 
> Ahem . . .
> 
> GIVE ME COMMENTS OR I'LL GO ON STRIKE!!!
> 
> Transmission over.

Sam stared at his brother in shock. 

 

Sam had been able to talk his guards into letting him have a moment outside alone to get some air. He only had ten minutes to breath and then get back in there before they come out to bring him back, but Sam figured ten minutes was plenty of time to take in the air. 

 

At least, he’d thought that before he saw his brother squatting in the shrubbery. Staking out the cabin, it seems. 

 

Sam stared at his brother, almost not believing he was there. How could Dean be here with him? Why didn’t Crowley tell him his brother was here? “De-” Sam started to call his brother’s name, but stopped abruptly. 

 

Almost in sync, Sam and Dean shifted cautiously towards the cabin, wondering if one of the monsters inside was watching them. Slowly, Sam raised his arms up into a stretch and then, as casually as he could, wandered over to where his brother hid between the trees.

 

Not a second after Sam got to a spot where he was probably well enough hidden from sight from those in the cabin, Dean launched up onto his feet and dragged Sam into a hug. The arms wrapped around him were strong and tight, clearly displaying that Dean had no intention of leaving his little brother anytime soon. 

 

“Sammy . . .” Dean sighed, his arms tightening further around his little brother. 

 

_ Damn, I don’t often see him like this.  _ Sam thought, peering up at his brother from where his face was pressed against his chest. “Hey, Dean.” Sam quietly called, hoping to ease his brother’s distress. “Never thought I’d be short enough to look up to you again, huh?” Sam goaded. 

 

Dean took one look at his once again little brother and scoffed. “Yeah, right. You look like the brother of a hobbit!”  _ There  _ was his brother. 

 

“We’ll see who’s the hobbit when I get back to my normal size, Dean.” Sam promised, smiling up in relief at his brother, who smiled back. 

 

The boys took a moment to just take each other in and enjoy not being seperated for a time, before Dean decided to get on to business. “So, Sammy, what are the Ancient Evils doing taking you to a rundown place like this?” Dean asked, though the cabin didn’t really look rundown at all.

 

“Damage control.” Sam answered simply, not wanting his brother to know about the issue with the angels if he didn’t already and it appeared he didn’t. Dean gave Sam a look that said  _ “There’s more that you can say about that” _ , to which Sam didn’t respond. 

 

Clearly recognizing that that line of questioning wasn’t something Sam wanted to talk about, so he tried a different tact. “So, think you can slip away now? Need any help?” He asked. 

 

“No, Dean.” Sam sighed, exasperated. “That’s not how this is needs to work, I stay here and pass information on to Crowley. It’s not my task to escape.” Sam tried to impress upon his brother what they were trying to do here. 

 

“Haven’t you gathered enough info to warrant running away? You helped us realize what the Leviathans were trying with that realtor scam . . . Thanks for that, by the way.” Sam gave a  _ you’re welcome _ nod. “You probably have a working knowledge on how their hierarchy works and-- what else?”

 

“I found out they’re looking for something called a Leviathan Tablet, which holds the key to defeating them and they need a prophet to read it.” Sam replied and man did it sound like he’d actually made a lot of progress when he said it like that!

 

“See?” Dean demanded, in full big brother mode. “You don’t need to stick around! We’ve got everything we need.” Dean stressed. 

 

“We don’t have the tablet. Or the prophet, for that matter. We have the knowledge of what we need, but that won’t help us if we can’t put it to use. The only way we can do that is if we have someone on the inside who can gain access to those things when Roman finds them and, right now, that can only be me!” 

 

Sam insisted, not quite believing that he was agreeing with Crowley’s plan. 

 

“We’ll find another way, we always do.” Dean refused to back down on the idea. 

 

“Dean, no. For once, we’re getting answers on our own terms, without scrambling and scraping for them. I’m not going to give this up just because you have issues with Crowley.” Sam admonished. 

 

“This isn’t just about Crowley!” Dean insisted. “And we both have issues with Crowley! For good reason, too. He’s screwed us both over half a dozen times!” 

 

“But he seems to have as much at stake here here as we do and he’s actively helping, this time! He  _ did  _ look into the information I gave him and you benefited from that, didn’t you?” 

 

He waited for Dean to nod, which he did, hesitantly. “It’s because of Crowley’s help and his resources that we know everything we need to use the Leviathan Tablet once we find it.” 

 

Dean didn’t reply. For all that knew him, Dean was now pouting and Sam continued in a softer tone. “I need to be here when they find the Tablet. When they bring the prophet in to deal with it. If I’m not, they’re that much closer to destroying humanity and whatever else they plan to do.  _ I need to be here. _ ” 

 

“Sam.”    
  
“Dean.” 

 

Dean sighed, rubbing his hand across his face. “No choice but to leave my little brother in the hands of man-eating, psychotic, freaks.” Dean muttered, barely loud enough for Sam to pick up on. Then louder, “If I’m not going to help you escape, do I just go back to my hunt, then or what?” 

 

“Hold on. You’re on a hunt?” Sam asked, surprised. 

 

He’d expected . . . well, he’d expected that Crowley had given away something about the attack and, incensed, Dean managed to hunt Sam down. Although he probably should have, he hadn’t really considered the idea that Dean showing up here at the same time was an accident. Finding his location with the famous Winchester luck . . . --Wait. His location!

 

Sam could’ve smacked his own face for not thinking of it before, but Dean could tell him where they were right now! “Where are we?” Sam asked, cutting Dean off as Dean was saying that  _ of course he was on a hunt _ . 

 

“What do you mean ‘where are we’?” Dean blinked at him. 

 

“Which state?” Sam specified, glaring lightly at his brother. 

 

“We’re in New Jersey.” Dean looked at him oddly. “How did you not know that?” 

 

“They didn’t want me to know where we are. Deliberately tried to hide it.” Sam stated. 

 

“Does that help us?” Dean raised an eyebrow, incredulously. 

 

“It’ll help me. If they move me again, I’ll be able to guess where we’re going and report it to Crowley. He can then track my movements.” 

 

Dean looked thoughtful and nodded. “So,” Dean started again. “Should Bobby take care of the hunt solo or . . ?” 

 

“You and Bobby should take care of it together.” Sam shook his head. “If you work together, you might be able to finish it quicker and then get back to me. What are you hunting?” Sam asked. 

 

“We think it’s a Jersey Devil.” Dean answered. “Tough but manageable.” He added, as if his brother didn’t already know. 

 

“Alright. Our gameplan, then.” Sam said. “You and Bobby, safely but quickly, finish the hunt and either find me or the science facility in the area. 

 

At the look Dean shot him, Sam explained. “They told me there’s one owned by Roman Enterprises somewhere around here. Apparently, they own most of the land, too. They’re taking me over to it later, tonight. If you can find me or the facility after the hunt, then you can help figure out what’s going on over there. We can’t risk interacting once there, but six eyes are probably better than two.” 

 

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean smiles, slightly proud of his little brother. Sam smiled back, just glad to be near his family. Sadly, he soon jolted as a thought hit him. 

 

“How long have we been talking?” Sam asked, his eyes quickly taking on a note of panic. 

 

“Dude, I don’t know!” Dean shot back, his worry spiking at Sam’s reaction. “Why?” He demanded. 

 

“They only gave me ten minutes to get some air before they come out to get me!” Sam whisper-yelled. 

 

No sooner had he finished that statement than the sound of a wood door opening from the direction of the cabin a few paces away caused both boys to stiffen. 

 

“I have to go!” Sam said, desperately hoping that he could stop whoever it was from seeing Dean. 

 

“Wait--I--Sam!” Dean reached for Sam, not ready to leave his brother alone with these creatures. 

 

“ _ Dean. _ ” Sam stressed. “I have to go.”    
  
Dean hesitated. Yet . . . he and his brother were hunters first, this was the life. He nodded and Sam jumped out onto the path before the cabin. 

 

Dean wanted to hang back and make sure Sam wouldn’t be hurt before he left, but he knew that he was already running a serious risk of being caught just by being in the area and he didn’t want Sam getting hurt if the Leviathans found him. So despite his deeply internal need to protect his little brother, he turned around and left. 

 

\------

 

Sam pushed through the leaves until he all but fell onto the cleared path leading to the cabin and successfully drawing the attention of the Leviathan stalking around the front of the cabin, who’d definitely come out to check on him. 

 

It was one of the nameless Leviathans, Sam noted abscently. That is, it was one of the two that he had no name for, real or in his head, and that, really, he gave no thought to beyond what he had to. The Leviathan dropped the defencive stance he’s taken when he probably heard Sam thudding through the foliage, when he saw that it was only Sam -- or, well, Cole. 

 

“What were you doing over there?” The creature asked, looking at him warily. 

 

“I thought . . . I thought I saw a rabbit.” Sam stuttered out the excuse and immediately wanted to smack his face. He was a hunter, why was he such a shady liar?? 

 

The Nameless Leviathan continued to look at him oddly, but seemed to decide to report it to his boss or something that didn’t involve dealing with the problem now. You could almost pinpoint the exact moment he came to that decision by watching for when his facial features blanked out. 

 

“Well, it’s time to go back.” He responded and waited for Sam to start walking ahead of him to the cabin before he followed behind, escorting the young man back to his keep. 

 

\------

 

“Sam really said all that?” Bobby asked, shocked. 

 

He and Dean were back at Biggerson’s. Well, technically, this was Dean’s first time here, but Bobby had grabbed the boy a sandwich when he dropped by. The Turducken Slammer. Personally, he thought that shoving a bunch of birds up inside each other was an amalgamation worthy of Frankenstein, but just by the name alone, he knew it was Dean’s kind of meal. 

 

He shouldn’t have gotten the boy the sandwich, though, because Dean had well and truly gotten addicted to it. They decided to talk about Dean’s meeting with Sam over a late lunch, which had soon devolved into Dean scarfing down  _ two  _ Turducken Slammers in short order and nonchalantly describing what was going on on Sam and Crowley’s end. 

 

In fact, everything about this situation was just  _ odd.  _

 

Dean was normally the most hot headed and unreasonable of the three hunters, but the way he’d just described the whole thing, with Dean talking through a mouthful of Turducken and Bobby picking at his salad, was the most laid back Bobby had seen him in a while. 

 

Now that he thought about it, it kind of reminded Bobby of that stoned Forest Ranger Rick they’d questioned that morning. 

 

“Yep, he sure did.” Dean answered in his new  blasé attitude.

 

Warily plunging ahead, Bobby asked, “So what do you think about the happenings ‘round here?” 

 

“‘Bout  _ what _ ?” Dean asked around his burger, eyes closed like Bobby wasn’t even there. 

 

“The  _ case _ .” Bobby emphasized. “About people going missing and being chewed up, talk of the Jersey Devil? What do you make of it? We haven’t found evidence pointing to a particular cause yet . . .” He trailed off, suggestively. 

 

“Oh,  _ that _ .” Dean muttered and  _ finally _ opened his eyes. “I’m not really worried about it.” 

 

Bobby peered at his boy in shock, but couldn’t find the words to reply to the insane statement. Dean saw it, though. “Funny, right? I don’t give two shakes of a rat’s ass.” Dean scoffed, then got a confused look on his face and continued. 

 

“Is that right? Do rats shake their asses, or is it something else?” Dean queried, just before losing interest completely and went back to obnoxiously scarfing his burger . . . or sandwich . . . whatever. 

 

By this point, Bobby was about ready to start having heart palpitations, which he didn’t think he could handle much of at his age. Bobby was an actual millisecond away from demanding what the fricking hell was wrong with him, when his hunter instincts told him to take stock of the perimeter. 

 

Without moving his head, Bobby shifted his eyes around the restaurant, growing more wide-eyed and panicked as he looked around, until his head was swiveling this way and that. Everyone was eating the TDK slammer in the restaurant, absolutely everyone, and most of them looked just as stoned as Dean did. 

 

He continued to look for one person who wasn’t eating that that stupid sandwich, his trepidation growing astronomically while he did it until he finally reacted, throwing his hand on top of Dean’s Slammer and slamming it back down onto his plate. 

 

“What? Hey! Why?” Dean whined, trying to pick his sandwich back up again, only to be swatted at by Bobby. “What’s your problem?” Dean demanded, still not able to muster up his usual anger. 

 

“There’s something funky in that TDK Slammer.” Bobby muttered, staring at it in shock and trying desperately to wrap his mind around tainted food being the cause of whatever was going on. 

 

\--------

 

Dean whined and protested the whole way back to their campsite, albeit sluggishly. 

 

Bobby occasionally wondered if Dean would have even followed him back to where they set up camp if he hadn’t been holding Dean’s sandwich hostage in the way of a foil takeout container swan. Anyway, he ignored Dean’s bitching until they were back at camp, where he set down Dean’s sandwich and prodded at it like a caged animal. 

 

“This is stupid.” Dean muttered lazily and watched Bobby’s continued prodding. “My sandwich didn’t do anything, I don’t know what you think you’re going to find. 

 

“There’s something wrong with you, Dean.” Bobby argued, glancing up from his sandwich inspection. 

 

“Are you kidding? I’m fine!” Dean insisted. Bobby just stared at him, incredulous and not believing a word. 

 

“I actually feel great! Best I’ve felt in moths.” Dean continued. “Cas . . . Black goo . . . I don’t even care anymore.” Dean breezed over saying his best friend’s name like he hadn’t subtly been refusing to say it since the incident. “And you want to know what’s even better? I don’t care that I don’t care!”

 

Dean looked at Bobby, challengingly. “I just want my sandwich back!” 

 

The only response Bobby gave to that statement was a derisive mutter of “Everybody’s loving the Turducken”. Then, Dean’s expression turned to one of surprise. 

 

Before Bobby could question it, Dean opened his mouth. “I think you pissed off my sandwich.” Bobby’s eyes drew back to the lone sandwich and he jumped back a little bit at what he saw. 

 

The meat patty inside the bun was oozing this absolutely putrid gray goop. A viscous slime, really. 

 

Bobby gaped at the monstrosity as Dean slowly moved away from the thing, the first sign of caution he’d shown in the last two hours. “That--Th--That’s  _ in _ me?” Dean asked.

 

Bobby ignored him, too busy thinking through scenarios in his head. “I don’t think I’m wrong in thinkin’ that whatever’s caused people to disappear, ate Ranger Rick’s partner, and caused whatever else . . . is in the meat of the Turducken slammer.” Dean and Bobby both stared at the horrible sandwich. 

 

“If I wasn’t so chill right now, I would puke.” Dean smiled wryly. Both men stared at each other and for the first time in a long time, they were on the same page. 

 

Whatever this was, Biggerson’s was in the center of it and Sam and Roman being in the area right now . . . just couldn’t be a coincidence. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are wonderful things


End file.
